


Dawn of Absolution

by SuperJedders



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger, Angst, Background Relationships, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Friendship, Graphic Description, Gun Violence, My First Fanfic, Origins, Overwatch - Freeform, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Serious Injuries, Smoking, Violence, Young Fareeha "Pharah" Amari, Young Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 65,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8537305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperJedders/pseuds/SuperJedders
Summary: Jesse McCree was picked up by Blackwatch at the tender age of 17. From then he experienced everything Overwatch and Blackwatch had to offer, watching the organisation rise, fall and then be recalled. This story focuses on his history, relationships with other members and what ultimately led him to leave prior to the fall of Overwatch and rejoin when the Recall was initiated.





	1. Prologue

Brown hues stared back from the mirror as the young man tugged awkwardly at his shirt for the fifth time in under 4 minutes. The sky blue shirt hung from his slender frame awkwardly, the multiple creases doing nothing but highlighting the problem. Letting out a sigh of annoyance, he swept a few strands of brown hair out of his eyes and set about rolling up the sleeves on the shirt to his elbows, his gaze shifting to the tattered cowboy hat on the side embellished with a gold coloured Blackwatch logo and a few lone bullets. He smiled briefly, remembering the argument that had brewed just from his defiance to part with the headpiece. He heard every reason possible for not wearing the ‘ghastly’ hat, he’d been lectured on how ‘It wasn’t part of the uniform’ or how ‘Scruffy and tatty’ it looked. Eventually, despite telling the lad how stupid it was to wear a cowboy hat his stubborn attitude had not only earned the respect of his strike commander but also allowed him to keep his hat where it belonged. It was a piece of history, his history, and he’d be dammed to let anyone tell him he couldn’t wear it.

Grabbing the dark chest armour from the side he slipped it over his head easily, securely fastening it into place and rolling his eyes as the shirt flared out at the bottom as a result. He had always questioned why the chest armour was more of a breast plate but had only gotten a glare from Reyes which had been enough to silence his question. Besides, the piece had grown on him in recent years and saved his sorry ass from a shot or two, as evidenced by the various scuff marks and the odd bullet hole. Each a reminder of his work, a memento of sorts designed to show his path to redemption. Blackwatch for him was a way of righting his wrongs, and thus far it suited him down to the ground.

A flash of blue in his peripheral vision caught his attention before the air displaced briefly behind him and a metallic taste stung the back of his throat. **“Mornin’ luv, all set to go?’”** the cheery greeting that resounded from the young British woman was inevitable. Despite all she had endured Lena Oxton had never let it drag down her spirit, that fire in her eyes and determination in her heart drove her forward. Today they were not speaking as acquaintances but colleagues.

The young man looked to her, hands resting on his hips **“Sure thing. Just when was it Morrison promised me a uniform that doesn’t hang off me like an oversized teepee”** his response was rough, his southern drawl just completing the rough cowboy look.

Lena looked him up and down with a false seriousness etched on her young features, before her hand went to her lips attempting to stifle a giggle. She averted her gaze briefly before flicking her hair from her eyes **“Sorry Luv’, it doesn’t look that bad though. You’ll grow into it eventually”** that chipper smile caused the cowboy to roll his eyes sarcastically.

 **“They’ve been telling me that since I got here. I see ya got yerself kitted out sumin’ proper”** his arms folded across his chest after a gentle gesture to the young woman’s outfit.

Bright leggings, a brown flight jacket emblazoned with the Overwatch logo and what he’d imagined to be some flight patches. His brown hues focused on the side of her leg, the word Tracer etched in white from her hip to her ankle on the tight orange leggings. **“Tracer huh? Yer stickin’ with it?”**

The Brit smiled and nodded, taking a second to adjust the bright blue device pulsating on her chest. **“Yup!”** the ‘p’ popping as a smile spread across her features **“Winston said it was fitting, and It’s grown on me.”** Her head tilted gently, strands of hair falling over her eyes softly as she eyed up the cowboy, tapping her index finger against her lip thoughtfully **“Hmm, maybe you should make a call-sign for yourself Jesse”** she shifted her weight, favouring her left side and resting her hands on her hips, almost as though she were challenging the man.

Jesse chuckled, grabbing his two holsters from the side and looping them around his waist **“If it’s alright with you darlin’...”** he began, adjusting the left holster into a more accessible place at his side before jimmying the right in the same fashion **“I think I’ll just stick with the name I’ve got, needless to say I’m quite fond of it”**

He shot her a half smile before taking the two revolvers from the table, spinning them once between his fingers subtly checking for any damage before quickly slotting them securely into their holsters. His hands resting on the cool metal handle of both peacekeepers as though he expected to need their services within the next few moments. Drawing both guns was muscle memory to him, and just the thought of getting hands on in a mission caused his fingers to twitch briefly, rough fingertips brushing gently over the detail etched into the panelling on the gun’s handles.

 **“Mccree!”** his name was barked from the door, Jesse jumping briefly at the sudden abuse of his eardrums. Abandoning his brief attempt to strike up an ongoing conversation with Lena he glanced over his shoulder casually, seeing Gabriel Reyes stood there with his arms folded and an unhappy expression etched across his brow.

 **“Ye’ boss?”** he asked, turning to the strike commander, aware of Tracer tensing slightly beside him.

 **“Morrison wants a word”** an awkward silence added to the tension on the end of Gabe’s sentence and Jesse could have sworn he saw the veins on his strike commander’s forehead bulge at the mere mention of Morrisons name. Jesse had nothing against the blonde haired poster boy of Overwatch, but considering the opportunity to redeem himself had come from Reyes, his loyalty would reside with Blackwatch unless proven otherwise.

**“Sure thing, let me jest-’”**

**“-Now Mccree! Room 13!”**

Mccree knew that tone of voice when he heard it, his attention snapping back to his strike commander before he nodded once. **“Yes Boss….”** He answered with a cocky two fingered salute, biting hard on a smirk after seeing the annoyance on Gabriels face before finally the man skulked off down the hall, the sound of the males’ boots echoing ominously in the hall. He heard Lena let out a small breath behind him, the cowboy shaking his head before glancing to Lena with an apologetic shrug. **“S’pose I’d best go see what he wants. I’ll catch up with you later”** he promised, taking a few steps towards the door before that familiar blue light flashed and the wind tugged at his back.

His head turned to look behind, seeing no sign of the Brit before he smirked and shook his head. She was certainly getting the hang of her abilities, in fact nowadays he was pretty sure she never walked anywhere, preferring to quite literally skip ahead through time so she could get the practice. A final glance while he took a step forward saw him collide directly into Lena, the sudden contact and invasion of space startling him into stepping back before he scowled at her **“Dammit Lena….You keep doin’ that we’re guna have a problem…”** Jesse said a hand placing on her arm to gentle her aside before the girl slapped his hat on his head, tugging it over his eyes somewhat.

 **“Thought you might want this?”** she said with a grin, watching the cowboy tug the hat into position with his left hand and a surprised look in his eyes.

 **“Uh…Thanks”** he said before Tracer stepped back flamboyantly.

 **“Don’t mention it love! Cheerio…”** a flash of blue and the echo of her laugh was all that remained as she blinked down the hallway out of sight.

Jesse frowned in amusement unable to hide the sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before he adjusted his hat again briefly **“Cheerio….”** He murmured, amused by the phrase before he began to walk in the other direction, the sound of his boots echoing almost ominously in the empty hall.


	2. Rough Beginnings

**“How many of these dam ingrates do we have left now?”** Reyes growled at the nearest Blackwatch member before being handed a clipboard with a list of names and rooms.  It had been a long and arduous 48 hours since the successful sting operation on the notorious Deadlock gang in Santa Fe. Their aim had been to tear down their crime organisation through more unconventional means. Unfortunately, this had resulted in the near destruction of a pokey diner at the mouth of Deadlock Gorge and the desecration of the surrounding area as Deadlock and Blackwatch boots fought under the burning sun. Injuries were sustained and there were fallen Blackwatch and Deadlock members but finally they had trapped the varmints like rats, hastily wrestling them into cuffs and onto drop ships which escorted their new prisoners to headquarters for interrogation and ultimately their fate.

Skipping through the hastily scrawled list of names, Reyes narrowed his eyes at the scribble at the bottom, tapping it with his index finger angrily. **“Him? Isn’t he the one who-”** he began his question, a small glint in his eyes as one of the strike officers confirmed before he had even finished

**“Yes Boss, he’s the one they sold out. The one responsible for...well you know”.**

Shoving the clipboard back at the man Reyes cracked his neck to one side **“Good, I’ve been waiting for this all day. Let nobody into the room unless I say otherwise”** Reyes snapped, a slight growl to his tone. This certain individual had been responsible for the injury and death of at least 10 of his best Blackwatch Operatives, and since other members of the Deadlock gang had been so eager to sell the culprit out in exchange for a luxury or two for their inevitable stay in a high security prison Reyes had been looking forward to a bit of one on one interrogation with the man. He cracked his knuckles, boots loud against the tiles floor as he strode towards interrogation room 13. Unlucky for some? It was going to be living hell for this individual. Reyes smirked and opened the door, stepping into the dimly lit room staring down the prisoner.

 Hands cuffed together, looped through a metal hook on an old table that was securely bolted to the floor, the prisoner sat with their shoulders hunched, head bowed and a cowboy hat covering their face. Reyes could see the man jostling his left leg, the zip and spurs on the man’s boots jingling gently, almost rhythmically. Whether it was due to nerves, excitement or the man just needed a piss Reyes didn’t know nor did he care. He slammed the door shut, noticing the figure flinch briefly but still keeping their head down. Their hands were clasped together, fingers interlocking, highlighting the rough skin and grazes sustained as they had resisted arrest two days prior.

 **“McCree huh?”** the name hung in the air like a bad smell before Reyes continued speaking **“Looks like you’re the only one that’s left. You put up one hell of a fight from what I hear too”** Reyes spoke sternly, approaching the male, heavy steps echoing in the room. The figure remained silent, not even a twitch of his fingers, just the continue jostle of his leg. **“You’ll be joining your pals in prison soon enough, don’t you worry about that. But first, lets you and I have a little chat…”** Reyes was watching through narrowed eyes for any sort of reaction, a twitch of the hand, a slight shuffle in the seat but the prisoner gave nothing away.

 **“You hurt a lot of my men, some of whom won’t be returning to their homes tonight. Shit like that? Well that’s more than enough to earn you a few life times in max security.”** A small pause, false thought to build the tension. Reyes knew how to break these criminals down; he’d been doing it for long enough.

 **“Yeah, you are going to be spending the rest of your miserable existence rotting in jail with your pals….”** Dark hues watched, waiting for the words to sink in before continuing **“Although, that’s not to say we can’t make your life a little easier. Say, with an extra five minutes’ yard time? Or perhaps a cell all your own?”** Reyes was stood opposite the prisoner behind a spare chair, the gentle tick of the clock on the wall the only way of telling time was passing at a normal speed. **“So how about you tell us where we can find the rest of your Deadlock pals and I’ll see what I can do”** Reyes smirked, his eyes dark and arms folding. Stood with his feet shoulder distance apart he stared down at the man, wanting nothing more than to slap that hat off his head and ram it down his throat while he waited for an answer. Just the gentle jingle of the man’s spurs and boot were the only response to his offer.

 Reyes slowly sucked in a breath, taking some comfort as the cool air ran over his teeth. The lack of sleep and response from the prisoner was grinding on his nerves, burning down his patience like a fuse. Teeth gritted briefly before he placed both his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, fingers digging into the wood to keep himself grounded.

 **“Listen here you fucking ingrate…”** his voice was reminiscent of a growl, jaw clenched and veins bulging beneath his black beanie. “ **You don’t even have a pot to piss in right now. You have nothing left and your so called pals sang like canaries the second we got them alone, so how about you save yourself the trouble and tell me what I want to hear”** the venom in his tone was toxic, striking at the males’ pride but still, the only response was the jingle in the air. Reyes scowled, slamming his hands down on the desk, leaning forward slightly to intimidate the man into talking **“You fucking deaf? We can either do this the easy way or the hard way, so I suggest you start talking before I loosen that jaw for you?”** Finally, the gentle ringing of the prisoners jostling leg stopped. There was a slow intake of air from the male before that cocky southern drawl clawed away the remaining slither of Gabe’s patience.

 **“How’s about you piss off, pal?”** A tense silence hung in the air before Gabriel’s patience fragmented.

 The spare chair was the first thing to feel his wrath. All four of its feet left the floor all at once, the Blackwatch commander ignoring the splintering sound as it broke apart the second it connected with the solid wall. His gloved hand lashed out, grasping McCree by the throat and forcing him backwards. The chair he had been sat on clattered loudly to the floor, boots slipping once on the dusty floor as he frantically tried to get on his feet and stop himself from falling backwards. His arms yanked up instinctively to try and steady himself or at the very least grab the person responsible for his loss of balance but the metal cuffs clunked loudly against the metal loop on the desk violently halting the action and jarring his shoulders.

The pair remained frozen like statues. Gabriel glaring furiously at the prisoner whose fragile neck he held in his grasp, taking in every detail on the tattered cowboy hat that shielded the prisoner from his piercing gaze. They were approaching checkmate. Gabriel would get his information and for good measure would leave a few scars on the man so that he remembered their encounter. The corner of his lip curled up at the thought and for once he found himself grateful for the rugged ways of Blackwatch. Dealing justice how he saw fit suited him down to the ground, and considering this individual had caused so much pain and suffering from their single encounter two days prior in his eyes the bastard deserved the beating he was about to receive. **“Now tell me what I want to hear and I’ll try my hardest not to break your nose”** Reyes snarled, breathing heavily through his nose before he felt the man gulp.

 The prisoner was the first of the two men to make a move. A scuffed boot shifting into a better position before he slowly began to stand up, slim legs shaking slightly from the exertion of being in the half crouched position used to prevent himself falling. He drew in a breath before chuckling at the Blackwatch Commander, the southern drawl that escaped his lips confident and cocky, like all Deadlock Gang members

 **“Sorry pal, reckon someone got you beat on that”** Finally the prisoner lifted his head finally and Reyes stared at the man- the kid who was staring back at him.

 The lad could barely have been legal driving age. A slight spate of facial hair was growing around his jaw, strands of brown unruly hair threatening to escape the confides of the hat framed his brown hues that glinted in fierce disobedience at the Strike Commander before the corner of the lads’ mouth curled into a smirk. His right eye was a spattering of purple and black shades, the skin around it swollen and tender to the touch. His nose had a small kink by the bridge, highlighted by dark bruising and two streams of dried blood just above his lip from his nose.

 **“You catching flies or sumin’?”** the sudden drawl snapped Gabe’s attention again, instantly making him defensive.

 **“What?”** he snapped, annoyed that the kid seemed so amused to catch the man off guard.

 **“Standing with yer’ mouth open like a bloke at a strip joint….”** Reyes saw the kid shift his body weight to one side slightly, catching the brief grimace of pain that flickered across his young features and took the opportunity to let his hand drop from the lads’ throat.

 Nothing was said as Reyes stepped around the lad, tipping the chair back into all four feet behind the prisoner. **“Sit down before you fall down kid….”** Reyes said roughly before walking back to the other side of the desk. He ran a hand over his face, almost as though he were trying to wake himself from a dream. **“Fucking hell kid, how old are you….12?”** Reyes folded his arms, raising an eyebrow.

Jesse had slowly eased himself back into his seat, hands resting on the desk again before he scowled at the remark. **“Who you callin’ Kid?”** he demanded, huffing as he spied the slight amusement on Gabriel’s face.

 **“Huh, bit old to be playing cowboy aren’t you?”** Reyes said, tugging the tip of the lads hat down over his eyes.

 **“Get yer fuckin hands off me“** McCree barked back, yanking his head away from Reyes. The puppy dog scowl he shot Reyes from beneath the shadow of his hat only amused the Blackwatch commander, bringing a brief smile to his lips and irritating Jesse further. **“Why don’t you go take a long walk off a short pier…”** he muttered, raising his hands slightly to readjust his hat back into position

Gabriel took a moment to observe the kid. Tatty clothes that looked like the hand-me-downs someone would give their youngest child were tainted with the red dust of Deadlock gorge. The trademark, black leather Deadlock jacket was missing its arm. Most likely removed due to being too long, allowing the frayed edges around his shoulders to show the sleeves of the off-white T-shirt he wore beneath it.  Dusty chaps did very little to hide his tattered and faded blue jeans. As a matter of fact, if Reyes had to comment, the only part of the kids attire that didn’t look like something dragged out of a lost and found box was the hat. He took a moment to wonder how it was possible, how someone of his age could get involved in the Deadlock gang and not only that but make such a name for themselves for their skills?

  **“Hey, you done starin’?”**

Reyes snapped his focus back to the lad who had leaned forward on the desk slightly. A shit eating grin spread across the kids face before he painfully leant back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. **“Look pal, I’ll be dammed before anyone can call me a squealer. I aint telling you nuthin’ so I reckon we’re done here?”** he spoke with an air of confidence before he adjusted himself on the seat and stifled a grunt of pain, his teeth gritting as he tried to hide it from the Blackwatch Commander.

 Reyes had noticed, the kid had put up quite the fight when they tried to bring him in, as evidenced by the black eye and broken nose so it didn’t surprise him to see the kid wrestling with pain and discomfort. Only difference now, was that it felt avoidable. He wasn’t going to take any joy from sending this kid to rot in jail. A life barely begun, stripped away so suddenly, all that untapped potential gone to waste. A smirk formed on his face as an idea evolved in his mind, it was all dependant on how eager this kid would be to correct his mistakes.

Reyes cleared his throat, scratching the underside of his jaw briefly **“No, we’re not. Far from done actually. Now listen up Kid, I have a proposition for you….”** Reyes folded his arms, noting the look on unease that flickered in McCrees eyes, the lad biting the inside of his lip briefly as he wondered what could be about to befall him next.


	3. Preconceptions of Purgatory

Worn out trainers pounded the pavement rhythmically as the young cowboy ran around the track. His face flushed a deep red, sweat having soaked the back of an oversized grey t-shirt and yet his hat still remained glued to his head, somewhat taming the sweaty mess which now lie beneath it. His lungs ached with every breath he sucked in, his arms pumping at his sides while a stitch burned angrily at his side.

**“Alright...that’s enough”**

Jesse gasped, slowing to a halt and stumbling slightly as his legs shook beneath him from the exercise. His hands rested on his knees as he crouched down sucking in every scrap of air he could manage, and trying to ignore the thumping of his blood pumping in his ears, the tingling sensation in his limbs.

 **“Good job Niño”** the slap between his shoulder blades was sudden and jolted Jesse into an awkward half stumble, his hat slipping over his eyes briefly. His mouth opened to retort but breathlessness from the exercise stole his words, a faint gasp escaping his lips instead as his throat cried for a drink. He tilted his hat back onto his head, glancing at Reyes and straightening up, chest still heaving with every breath. Was that pride in the male’s eyes? Jesse raised an eyebrow at his ‘commander’ and swallowed a few times to wet his mouth before attempting to speak again.

 **“Ya’ giving me praise now…what next? You guna’ run it next time?”** Jesse panted through his words, scowling as Reyes chuckled deeply.

 **“Nice try. Go shower, you fucking reek like a rotten gym bag. Keep up that cocky attitude and that’ll be the last bit of praise you get”** Reyes shoved the lad into motion before he folded his arms across his chest, smirking as Jesse muttered some obscenity under his breath and shuffled off to the showers.

The warm water was a relief for his aching limbs. Jesse stood there for what seemed like an eternity, letting the water wash over his face and body before he reluctantly grabbed at the shower gel and proceeded to scrub the aura of the training session from his skin. His hands ran over a few bruises that littered his chest and limbs. He had been with Blackwatch for 2 months now and Reyes was whipping him into shape like a disobedient border Collie. The first two weeks had been hell, and many evenings McCree found himself debating whether life in prison would be better than the 5am wake up calls, hours of training, lectures and getting his ass handed to him by Reyes over and over in training sessions. The commander certainly didn’t hold back his punches, but no pain no gain, right?

Shaking his head Jesse turned the shower off, grabbing at the towel and wrapping it around his waist as he padded out into the changing rooms, fetching his clothes and roughly towel drying himself before starting to dress in his Blackwatch uniform.

Tugging black combat pants on, he readjusted his belt and signature BAMF buckle before snatching the brown shirt from the bench, tugging it on and starting to fasten the buttons pausing when noticing the tightness across his chest and under his arms before he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Brown hair splayed out in different directions shadowed his dark hues, his tall frame still reminiscent of the kid they’d scraped out of Deadlock Gorge that day, but the scrawny body that had lay beneath all that denim was fading fast. His shoulders were broader, once gangly limbs now defined with muscle and meat, and even his abs had begun to form some sort of pack although arguably you could call it more of a 3 and a half pack than a 6 pack. It was a start, and for the first time since arriving at Blackwatch Jesse smiled at his reflection, and his reflection smiled back, the cowboy tucking his shirt into his pants and grabbing his red neckerchief scarf and tying it around his neck, adjusting the large triangle of the fabric briefly in the mirror. Making a mental note to request a larger shirt he ran a hand loosely through his wet hair and scooped up his belongings before making his way out the door, workout clothes tucked under his arm.

Maybe hell wasn’t too bad after all.

 ******

McCree made a habit of eating late so as to avoid the rabble of the mess hall. He enjoyed the solitude, being sat with his own thoughts and whatever monstrosity had been served up by the cooks that evening. His gaze shifted from the window back to his tray where he sneered and poked at what he could only assume to be some sort of pork or chicken with vegetables that had the consistency of rubber. The empty tables around him were a standard sight, he wasn’t much for talking to the other Blackwatch members and to his knowledge the bluebirds known as Overwatch kept to themselves. He’d seen one or two of the agents in the halls, or training rooms but made a habit of looking the other way. His mind was still conflicted, looking for a potential means of escape perhaps and getting attached to anyone in this place would set him up for failure. He’d lasted 2 months thus far with Reyes breathing down his neck constantly for the first 30 days as though he were about to make a mad dash for the exit at any moment. Blowing a strand of hair from his face Jesse stabbed at a piece of broccoli, the chewy vegetable just passing his lips when he heard the doors to the mess hall burst open and a deep hearty laugh echoed through the room.

 **“AH my friend, you have not lived until you have tried Schweinenbraten! Next time we are posted in Stuggart you must remind me!”** the heavy German accent and large booming voice caused Jesse to glance over his shoulder briefly, brown hues widening at the brute of a man who had stepped into the room. The guy was built like a tank, standing at what he could only guess to be around 7ft with broad shoulders that looked like they would tear through the grey tee emblazoned with the Overwatch logo if he so much as raised an arm.

 **“You’ve been sayin’ that for years…one day you’ll deliver”** the second voice that piped up came from lower down, Jesse catching a glimpse of a small, blonde bearded man with an eyepatch over his left eye and a rather impressive looking robotic arm. Standing at a mere 4’7 the stark contrast between the stout Swede and the German Giant was somewhat mind boggling and as the two men continued their conversation Jesse looked back to his meal, tugging his hat down slightly and focusing on his dinner, words becoming nothing but background noise to his ears.

 **“Hallo there!”** the booming German voice was suddenly right behind him, a large paw slapping him hard on the back the force of it jarring his chest into the table and causing him to drop his fork with a clatter.

 **“Ye scared the boy to death you lummox leave him be…”** the Swede snapped at his oversized friend before shaking his head, arms folding.

 **“Nonsense! Besides, it is time we introduced ourselves!”** the German sat heavily on the opposite side of the table, grinning down at Jesse, muscular arms resting on the table. **“You’re Gabriel’s boy Ja?”**

Jesse glanced up from under his hat, spying the half scowl the dwarf was giving him and feeling a little uneasy with the German Giant sat opposite him. At the man’s heavily accented words however he sat up straight **“I’m not his boy!”** he said sternly, eyes burning in fierce determination. The German however laughed loudly at him.

 **“Ahahaha, there’s fire in him! I salute you!”** the man extended a large hand to Jesse **“Reinhardt! At your service…Reinhardt Willhelm”**

Jesse hesitated before taking the hand, tilting his hat back slightly to make eye contact, noting the star shaped scar and damaged eye the man had. His grip was firm despite the Germans hand swamping his own and a slight concern bubbling that his fingers would be crushed in the man’s grip.

 **“The name’s McCree. Jesse McCree”** he flashed the German what could have been considered a smile, hands shaking before breaking apart.

 **“A pleasure my friend”** Reinhardt glanced to the blonde dwarf with a disapproving frown and a gesture for the man to introduce himself.

**“We should be getting’ back to work…let us leave this Blackwatch boy to his dinner”**

McCree tensed at the tone behind the Swedes words, was that disgust? Distrust? His lips parted to confront the man before Reinhardt interrupted him.

 **“What my diminutive friend means to say is Greetings…my name is Torbjörn Lindholm.”** Large arms folded again, gaze settling on the dwarf who frowned back before huffing and grunting in agreement, allowing Jesse to relax briefly before an awkward silence fell between the men, a series of awkward throat clearings and scratching at chins or the back of necks all that occupied the silence for a few moments.

 **“Well fella’s I’d best be goin’. Don’t want to be keepin’ you here”** Jesse spoke suddenly, placing his hands on the table and standing, more than ready to make a hasty exit and abandon all hope of finishing his sub-par meal. As he picked up his tray, Reinhardt stuck his large hand out to stop it.

 **“Ah, moment Mal!?"** Reinhardt stood slowly after uttering the German command, shuffling side wards out of the bench and resting his hands on his hips, chest puffed out almost as if the man were about to make some announcement or proclamation. **“Torbjörn and I were going for some post mission drinks. Join us! I have many a story to tell!?”** Jesse looked from Reinhardt to Torbjörn and back again, the offer of an alcoholic beverage having peaked his interest greatly. What he wouldn’t give for a beer, heck even a trickle of scotch would leave him content right now but the dwarf looked unhappy with his friend extending the offer to a ‘Blackwatch lad.' so held silent for the time being.

Torbjörn exhaled in annoyance, clearly unimpressed but having seen the brief glint in the cowboy’s eyes at the offer of alcohol and feeling Reinhardt's gaze on him he resigned to giving the kid a chance. **“Ah, why the hell not?”** He mumbled much to Reinhardt’s pleasure.

 **"Wonderful!"** the word boomed in the near empty mess hall heavily accented with German before Reinhardt and Torbjörn made headway towards the doors.

Jesse stood still, still holding his dinner tray in his hands somewhat confused by the interaction he had found himself in before the sound of the Swedes voice echoed across the room suddenly.

**"Oi' stop walking like a cat around hot porridge and get movin’' if you're coming"**

Raising an eyebrow at the strange idiom Jesse flashed a smile in response and dumped his tray on the side, catching up to the two males with a small jog. **"So where d'yall go for a decent drink 'round here?"** he asked, adjusting his hat on his head.

 **"All in good time my friend..."** Reinhardt said, Jesse catching the sly smirk on the man’s face, his intrigue growing as he followed in silence, through the empty halls of the base. They weren't heading outside to his knowledge, which only raised the cowboy’s suspicions more the further they walked.

 ******

  **"Here we are! Best place around"** Reinhardt proclaimed, pushing open a door to reveal one of the lounge rooms. Jesse froze at the threshold and stared at the gathering of Overwatch Agents before him, trying to put names to faces as quickly as he could for a sense of familiarity.

 There were a number of agents McCree had never heard or seen around the base since joining two months prior. However, after scanning the room there were one or two he knew and quite frankly was surprised to see. The first being Jack Morrison. He recognised the man immediately, the blonde poster boy sat in one of the lounge chairs with a beer in his hand and a smile on his face as he spoke. The second face he recognised was none other than Gabrielle Reyes, the man also drinking from a beer with a less than cheery smile but the two were talking quite happily about recent missions and press oversight of Overwatch in general.

 **"Best place around?"** Jesse looked to Reinhardt sceptically, folding his arms and shifting his weight to one side slightly, watching the large man grin at him.

 **"Nothing is better than a drink with comrades! Come! I will tell you a tale of heroics! One of Honour and Glory!"** Reinhardt moved to sit down on the sofa, Torbjörn grabbing a drink from the side and taking a seat.

 For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and leaving the room, finding another way to acquire alcohol and drinking it in his own chambers. His foot shifted slightly before Reyes looked to him, that stern gaze somewhat surprised to see him stood at the door.

 **"Grab a drink and sit your ass down kid. I don't have all night to listen to this story he's been dying to share"** Reyes folded his arms, leaning back in his chair, dark hues watching as Jesse grabbed a drink, took a long swig and sat on the only available chair, beer bottle resting between his hands. Reinhardt took a deep breath and began to weave his tale as promised.

Maybe Hell wasn't that bad after all?

 


	4. Finders Keepers

The evening spent with the Overwatch agents soon passed into the early hours of the morning. Jesse had heard far too many stories from a rather overzealous Reinhardt, and had consumed far too many beers for it to agree with his senses let alone his stomach. Despite it all however, Jesse could barely hide the excited grin on his features as his brown hues shifted between the other agents. His eyes watery and bloodshot from the need for sleep and mixture of alcohol but right now he had adrenaline pumping through his veins. His left hand rested atop of two face down cards on the table in front of him, his other hand firmly grasping a half-finished bottle of beer. In the center of the table lie the current dealing; the King of Spades, the 10 of Diamonds and a Jack of Spades. Jesse drummed his fingers drummed rhythmically across his two hidden cards before he saw Torbjörn shake his head and push his cards forward with a sigh of defeat.

 **“Fold…”** He muttered sourly, folding his arms.

Jesse bit on the inside of his lip. Reinhardt, Torbjörn and Liao had already folded which left his brown hues to settle on none other than Jack Morrison and Gabrielle Reyes, both men sat with perfect poker faces, not even their eyes giving away their position.

 **“Hope you can handle this cowboy… Let’s raise the stakes a final time.”** Reyes said, fishing out a silver case from his pocket and gently tossing it on the table to join the few crumpled notes, coins and a small bottle of Russian Vodka Torbjörn had been saving for a special occasion.

He saw Jack shift in his seat, a flicker of unease in the male’s eyes before his head shook. **“Nah, I’m out.”** he said, holding up his hands in defeat with a soft chuckle, draining the last of his beer and wiping his mouth gently with the back of his hand **“He’s all yours kid…”**

McCree frowned in concentration, fingertips brushing over the back of his cards as he contemplated his options. Alcohol made his mind fuzzy, but the desire to win, that cocky attitude was driving him forward for now. He placed his beer down, searching his pockets and finding nothing to offer to the raised bet, concern crossing his features. His cigarette lighter, money and even his neckerchief was on the table as a wager.

 **“Problem?”** Reyes leaned forward with a smirk, somewhat enjoying the slight panic in the lads’ eyes.

 **“Nah…I jus’-“** Jesse moved to scratch at his head, stopping as his hand touched his hat, fingers grasping it before he took it off, contemplating using it as a wager his brow furrowing in deep thought. Did he have that much faith in his hand? He took another peek at his cards. An Ace of diamonds and 10 of clubs, not the strongest start but currently he was sitting comfortable with a pair of 10's and surely he hadn't imagined the brief twitch of Gabrielles lip earlier. Maybe lady luck would be with him tonight?

The hat was tossed on top of the pile, Reyes leaning back in his chair impressed. **“I’ll be damned, kids got some stones after all...”** He said before chuckling and gesturing for the fourth card to be dealt. The 10 of Spades was neatly laid down beside the other three cards, and judging by the brief shadow that flickered across Gabrielle's face McCree suddenly found himself doubting his hand signficantly. His shoulders slumped before he caught himself, Reyes spotting the look of disbelief on the lads face and smirking, his hand happily resting on his cards; the 6 and 7 of Spades. The cowboy let himself slip and now it seemed like Reyes had the upper hand.

 **“No hard feelings Kiddo. Let's just save the humiliation and call the game there eh?"** Reyes said, downing the last of his beer. **"Flush….”** Reyes said with a cocky grin as he turned his cards over, holding his hands up happily while watching the Jesse’s face pale slightly, only extenuating the pink on his cheeks from the volumes of alcohol he’d consumed. **“Better luck next time”** Gabriel jeered, scooping the winnings towards him, picking up the tatty hat and looking at it in mild disgust. **“The training dummies could use a new hat…”** he mused, before he moved to stand.

 **“Hold on just a second partner...I'd like to see the last card. Finish the game proper like”** the southern drawl made Reyes pause, looking down at the kid before him before he agreed with a half hearted shurg.

The card was dealt, the Ace of Hearts proudly placed beside the other four cards.

McCree lifted his head, meeting the dark hues of his strike commander **“I might not be too clever at this game….but I’m pretty sure this needs checkin’ right?”** his hand turned over his two cards, revealing an Ace and a King of spades. **“Now ya'll s’cuse if i'm wrong but I'm pretty sure that's what you'd call a full house, right boss?”** Jesse grinned before taking his hat back and proudly slapping it back on his head before gathering his winnings.

Reinhardt and Torbjörn burst into uproarious laughter simultaneously, the two men glad to see the young cowboy take the winnings.

Reyes stared down at the cards angrily **“Why you-“** he said through gritted teeth before shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck. **“Well played Ninõ…”** he firmly shook Jesse’s hand as a show of good sportsmanship. **“Enjoy the victory while you can, next training session you’re mine…”** he smirked before patting Jesse hard on the arm before watching the cowboy pick up the small silver case with intrigue.

Prying the case open McCree frowned at the short stubby cigars within it, picking one up between his thumb and forefinger and scowling at it, spying Reyes frowning in his peripheral vision.

 **“Huh, I jus’ never took you as a Cigarillo guy”** he said with a shrug before tucking it back into the case and putting them in his pocket along with the rest of his winnings.

Taking the chance to down the last of his beer, he slapped the bottle down on the table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while standing somewhat unsteadily, finger tips gently brushing the table as though it would steady him. He drew in a slow inhale, his head spinning slightly before he spoke.

 **“Welp I best be hittin’ the hay. Don’t want to be pushin’ my luck eh?”** he said, tipping his hat towards nobody in particular. **“Night ya’ll”** he called, somewhat tripping over the chair leg as he shuffled out from behind the table, giving a casual wave of his hand before walking rather shakily into the hall.

 

The walk back to his room was a blur to say the least, the alcohol hitting the cowboy harder than expected. Half stumbling into his room, he tossed his hat onto the side and kicked his boots off at the heels. Wrestling out of his shirt and tripping out of his trousers he fell into bed quite literally, clawing the blanket over his body and smacking his lips together as he fell asleep in a haze of alcohol and left over adrenaline.

 

The early morning light was not the cowboys best friend, the warm glow of sunrise blasting through the gap in his curtains across his face. Groaning in annoyance, his arm slapped clumsily across his eyes before he rolled onto his back, feeling drool over the right side of his face. He exhaled, grimacing at the taste of stale beer on his breath before with a grunt he rolled over and out of bed, staggering immediately as a headache exploded behind his eyes knocking him off balance and into the wall by the bathroom door. A few slow breaths and he dragged a hand over his face before shuffling into his bathroom to take a piss, shower and make himself somewhat presentable. He decided food would be top of his to do list considering he’d been woken so early.

He yawned for what felt like the twentieth time that morning, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes before he finished lacing his boots and pushed himself to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Heading for the door his hand grabbed at the side counter instinctively, not meeting the familiar fabric of his hat. His gaze darted down to the counter, brow pulling together before he turned on his heels and glanced around the room, scratching his head. **“Where the sam heck did I put it?”** he muttered to himself before exhaling and setting about searching the room.

30 minutes later he stood staring at the carnage caused by his search with a rage starting to burn inside him. Drawers had been pulled free, clothes scattered around the room, paper work and even cigarette packets tossed carelessly around the room as he searched every viable location for his hat. A sharp exhale through his nose and he swore under his breath, leaving his room and slamming the door shut behind him, boots stomping briefly through the hall before he realised it was just intensifying the headache. He’d grab a coffee; some breakfast then resume his search maybe starting with questioning a few people.

 

He stared down into his cereal bowl, watching a lone cornflake skirt around the outside of the bowl. His headache was letting up after taking some pain pills with the coffee he held in his left hand, fingers tapping on the outside of the china mug. He’d put the hat up for a wager and won, so surely he took it back with him to his room. He closed his eyes, releasing his mug and rubbing at his temples with a groan of pain. Maybe Reyes had decided to fuck with him after all? He exhaled slowly, eyes opening slowly so as not to abuse his eyes with the light in the room before he saw his hat disappear behind the wall at the end of the hall. He sat up, frowning before scrambling to his feet and taking off at a jog, sidestepping Liao who shot him a confused look before she bellowed something about him being a slob and to clean up his breakfast mess.

Paying no heed to the Overwatch Agent, McCree reached the end of the hall, glancing right then left before jogging to his left, eyes scanning every room he passed until he spotted it, sitting on a table in one of the interrogation rooms. He stopped abruptly, exhaling in a mixture of relief and annoyance before strolling into the room and reaching for his hat at the same time a much smaller hand did.

 

Silence. Jesse stared at the small girl who was currently hovering a hand innocently over his hat. Short, jet black hair framed her delicate face, with a couple of beaded braids weaved sporadically through her hair. Her brown hues stared up at him before she inhaled, standing up taller and scowled at him stubbornly.

 **“Well…Howdy”** McCree broke the silence first, noting her surprise at his southern drawl. She can’t have been any older than 12 he decided, but what intrigued him was the fact there was a kid just running around the headquarters. His fingers twitched above his hat, before he moved to pick it up, his eyes widening as the girl snatched it away, holding it close to her chest with a stern glare at him.

Breathe, she was just a kid. Jesse hadn’t any experience with kids, Deadlock didn’t exactly recruit from school if they could help it. He cleared his throat gently, hands resting casually on his hips. **“I think there’s been some misunderstandin’ that there’s my property now if ye could be a doll and hand it back-“** he reached for the hat slowly.

 **“-No”** the girl spoke back with a harsh tone and a fierce stare. **“Finders keepers, loser’s weepers”** she proclaimed, before slapping the hat on her head and taking a step backwards, increasing the distance between herself and the cowboy. Her hands went behind her back, linking together as she stood proudly before him.

Jesse scratched the back of his head, before ruffling his hair and stepping around the desk, crouching down to her height and meeting her gaze. **“Ok look kid, you might be cute as a button but I’m not in the mood for lettin’ some rugrat make off with what’s rightfully mine. So hand it over kiddo and mosey along back to….wherever it is your s’posed to be”** he held out his hand again, raising an eyebrow at the girl. Gentle yet stern, that was the best approach right?

 **“I’ll fight you for it”** the girls brash response caught Jesse off guard drawing a laugh from him as he rested his arms on his knees, crouched precariously on the balls of his feet to stay at the girls height.

**“Nah, I don’t go round hittin’ kiddos or little ladies. S’not right…come on just hand it ov-“**

The girl moved quickly, shouldering hard into him and easily knocking him off balance and onto his back. Frowning Jesse rolled over to get to his feet only to feel the girl leap onto his back, locking her arms around his throat and pulling hard. He gasped in a mixture of surprise and breathlessness, somehow managing to stagger backwards onto his feet, the girl hanging on his back like a cape, kicking at the back of his legs.

 **“Git off”** Jesse gasped, trying to pry the arms away from his neck without hurting her, the weight of her tugging down restricting his airway slightly.

She kicked out at his knees mid-step, the cowboy feeling his leg buckle, sending the pair to the floor hard. The girl released her grip as they fell before the pair lay on the floor of the interrogation room, Jesse sucking in breaths slowly and resting an arm over his stomach after rolling over to lie on his back. **“Alright time out a tic…..Goddamit….you attack everyone you meet?…”** he asked, watching the girl sit up and run her fingers through her hair to tidy it up.

 **“Just those I know I can beat”** she said, before looking to Jesse as he sat up, a serious expression on her young face. **“You’re not a real cowboy”** she said somewhat bitterly.

Jesse chuckled at her words **“Good to know….and nah I ain’t nothin’ without my hat”** he said with a smirk before his hat was handed back to him. **“Thank ya’ kindly and jus’ so we’re clear….I could have beat you easy”** he said, adjusting his hat before pushing himself back onto his feet, dusting himself off.

The girl frowned, jumping to her feet **“Ha I beat you fair and square! I’d do it again too!”** she placed her hands on her hips sternly.

Holding up his hands Jesse shook his head **“Lookit I don’t want no trouble miss so how’s about we call it a draw for now? Gotta lemme keep some pride. Deal?”** he said extending a hand for her to shake, chuckling as she sneered at it and folded her arms, dropping his hand back to his side. **“Dam you’re as stubborn as a bull. Come on, give me somethin’ to work with darlin’. A smile maybe or how’s about a name?”** he asked before exhaling **“A’ight I’ll go first. Names Jesse. Jesse McCree…”** he extended his hand again smiling as she cracked a small smile and took his hand, shaking it firmly.

 **“Hello Jesse. I’m Fareeha. Fareeha Amari”** she said before releasing her grip and brushing down the front of her dress.

Jesse scratched at the back of his neck **“Amari? As in Ana Amari?”** he smiled gently **”Well then it’s a pleasure to meet ya' Pharah”** he tipped his hat, his southern drawl butchering the girls name.

 **“It’s Fareeha!”** she snapped back.

 **“That’s what I said….Pharah”** Jesse retorted.

 **“Far-ee-ha!”** she snapped, enunciating every syllable for the cowboy.

Jesse folded his arms, again his southern accent clawing at the name, distorting it **“Pha-ra-ha”**

Fareeha threw her arms up in defeat with an annoyed yell **“Ah! أنت رعاة البقر غبي أنه ليس من الصعب** ('ant rueat albaqar ghabi 'annah lays min alssaeb!*) _"_ before she exhaled slowly and shook her head at him.

_[*Translation;You stupid cowboy it is not hard]_

Jesse smiled, hands on his hips again knowing how much his pronunciation bothered her before hearing the girls name called from down the hall, turning his gaze to the door as Ana stepped into view.

Long black hair, and deep brown eyes complimented the mark of Horus that stood prominently below her left eye. The woman's young features lighting up in surprise as she saw Fareeha and Jesse together. **“Ah Fareeha, I see you have met Jesse”** she said with a warm smile **“I hope he didn’t cause you any trouble”** she said.

**“No problem at all ma’am-“**

**“No problem at all mum-“**

The pair answered together, staring at each other before they both looked back to Ana with confused expressions, the woman laughing gently. **“It appears you two have much in common. Come Fareeha, it is time for your lesson.”** She took her daughters hand before turning to leave, pausing and looking back at Jesse. **“Come find me at the training area later, Reyes tells me you’re a good shot…I would like to see for myself”** she said with a smile.

Jesse straightened slightly, nodding **“O-o’course ma’am”** he said before watching the pair leave.

Ana Amari. The sharpest shooter in Overwatch wanted to see how he handled a gun? He exhaled slowly, rubbing at his forehead gently, grateful the pain medication had long since removed his headache **“S’pose there’s no harm in learnin’ somethin’ new….”** He mused before heading back to the kitchen where he was swiftly confronted by a rather irritated Liao.


	5. The Proving Grounds

Four months with Blackwatch had flown by, the scrawny cowboy plucked from the dregs of dusty deadlock gorge was honing his skills in leaps and bounds, learning combat, tactics and even the odd bit of engineering after sparking an hour-long conversation about hoverbikes with Torbjörn one afternoon. The Dwarf was a great engineer and inventor, and the short-tempered man had allowed him to help maintain Reinhardt’s armour from time to time. How so much weight could be carried by any human being was beyond him, but Reinhardt was just one of those entities that couldn’t be explained by sound logic. The man was a gentle giant.

Enjoying the midday sunshine, Jesse sat on the ground with his back against a wall overlooking the clear oceans that surrounded watchpoint Gibraltar. His hat shadowed his features, protecting his nose and cheeks from the harsh sun, his shirt rolled up to his elbows and legs stretched out in front of him.

**“You’re not even watching!"**

The angry voice of the young Amari girl followed by a sharp kick to the sole of his boot, made him lift his chin from his chest. Granted he had been dozing off in the heat, but the shrill voice would have been enough to grasp his attention on the verge of sleep. Tilting his hat back slightly he squinted at the girl **“A’ight I’m watchin’ go for it”** he drew a leg up, resting an arm across his knee, brown hues watching Fareeha bow once before standing legs slightly apart, arms raised defensively, her brown furrowing in concentration.

Each kick, punch and fake dodge was precise and delivered with force to the invisible target. Dramatically dodging, she spun on the ball of her foot delivering a roundhouse kick before flicking her hair from her face and grinning at the cowboy. **“See…..I’ve been practicing”** she panted, hands resting on her hips, the smile not fading from her lips. She had become rather attached to the Cowboy in recent weeks, often getting them both into trouble for their ‘childish’ antics.

Jesse leaned back against the wall again, letting out a low drawn out whistle. **“I’m impressed, much better than last time”** he said, wiping sweat from his brow. **“It’s hotter than a jalapenos armpit out here. Whaddya’ say to gettin’ a nice cold drink?”** he began to get to his feet before Fareeha could answer, dusting off the back of his cargo pants before rubbing the back of his neck, sneering at the pool of sweat that had gathered there.

 **"You say the strangest things..."** Fareeha remarked with a grin as she jogged over to follow him.

 **"Nah, I'm jus' creative. Should try it some time"** Jesse shrugged a shoulder and began to make tracks.

  ********* 

    They had barely taken a few steps towards the base when a sharp whistle caught their attention. Turning towards the noise, both raised a hand to shield their eyes from the sun, spotting Gabriel walking down the slope towards them with a serious look on his face.

 **“Oh, he doesn’t look happy…”** Fareeha spoke quietly beside him.

 **“How long have ya’ known him? Gabe’s never happy, even I know that”** he smirked as Fareeha bit on her lip to stifle a giggle.

 **“Slacking off again?”** Gabriel raised an eyebrow before folding his arms and looking to Fareeha. **“Ana is looking for you, best get a move on”** he let the girl take a few steps before speaking again **“You’re improving”** he called, the young Amari girl turning back with a confused look, Jesse also looking at Gabe curiously. **“Your roundhouse kicks…they’re better, more balanced. Try not to straighten the leg too much though next time”**

Praise and constructive criticism? Jesse folded his arms, raising an eyebrow in surprise before glancing to Fareeha who smiled. **“Oh, thank you. I will.”** She said with a nod **“See you later Jesse”** she said with a wave before running off to find her mother.

Jesse raised his hand in a small wave to the girl before scratching at his jaw and clearing his throat gently **“Aw, that was mighty nice-“**

**“-Shut it kid. We’ve got work to do-”**

**“-All’s I’m sayin’ is no harm in a little praise…”** Jesse shrugged with a grin before looking thoughtful **“Although nows I know ye’ can be nice? Well…I’m guna’ be itchin’ to get on yer good side-“**

 **“Ha, that’ll be the day. Now move your ass, Jack won’t wait all day…”** he began to walk away, expecting the lad to follow him obediently.

Jesse stared after him before shaking his head and catching up. **“Now hold on a sec. Jack?”**

Gabe turned to look at him “ **You deaf? Yes Jack, now come on”**

Jesse frowned **“Boy scout Jack? What’s he want with me?”** the strike commander for Overwatch hadn’t paid him any notice since the cards match two months ago. In fact, McCree only ever took orders from Reyes. Blackwatch and Overwatch weren’t supposed to mix, but it seemed he was the exception to the unwritten rule.

 **“Boyscout? I’ll have to remember that one”** Reyes chuckled at the comment and continued walking, leaving Jesse to follow somewhat apprehensively, wondering what the hell Jack Morrison wanted to see him for.

 ********* 

    Through the halls, past training areas Jesse followed in silence his hands deep in his trouser pockets. A set of doors opened as they approached, Jesse raising his gaze and frowning at the room. Targets were spread out, various materials, heights and sizes. He knew this room well because he hadn’t been allowed near it since being picked up. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t been allowed near any live munitions in case he decided to go on some mad rampage. His arms folded, an accusing gaze settling on Reyes.

 **“Target practice. Time to show us what you’re made of kid”** Reyes spoke without even looking at the cowboy before leading the way to a table where a few weapons were laid out, each emptied of their bullets.

Jesse’s eyes lit up, this was something he knew was within his skill set. His hand reached instinctively for the table, freezing as Reyes grabbed his wrist with an iron grip, dark hues burning into his. **“Try pulling anything funny and I’ll take you down so fast you won’t know what day it is”** the threat only made the cowboy more defensive, yanking his arm away with a scowl.

 **“Yes…Boss”** he spat, adjusting his hat before another door opened and Jack Morrison strolled in, a heavy duty pulse rifle loosely held in his right hand, every step purposeful. The man walked with pride, clearly aware of the weight he carried on his shoulders, the eyes that were always on him. So how did a seedy little side operation like Blackwatch keep running without tainting the commanders flawless reputation? Simple, everything was covert ops. Reyes had drummed that into him during week two. No evidence, no trace. Blackwatch was a shadow, cleaning up, bending rules and doing the dirty business Overwatch dare not associate with. What better place for a ruffian like him right?

Blue eyes met his own gaze, Jesse and Jack staring at each other in silence before the pulse rifle was shoved into his hands. Grasping at it he frowned at the Strike commander in mild confusion.

 **“Gabe tells me you’re a good shot, I want to see for myself.”** Jack stepped aside and folded his arms. **“Athena, set up target practice protocol 3.8 for our sharpshooter here”**

 _ **“Yes Commander. Protocol 3.8 initiated”**_ the female robotic voice echoed around the room as various targets and parts of the training area folded and revealed themselves. Targets were scattered about the area, none larger than hand size and each at varying distances and heights to test his skills.

Drawing a slow breath McCree moved towards the table of guns about to dump the pulse rifle when Jack put a hand out to stop him with a stern look. **“A real solider uses the weapons available to him. You should be able to adapt to whatever the cards throw at you.”**

Jesse hid his frustration and unease with a stern frown before looking down at the unusually heavy pulse rifle in his hands. He longed for the safety of his two peacekeepers, the silver guns locked away somewhere in the base well away from him. He knew his guns, how they worked, how they felt and the gun currently in his grip felt foreign to him.

 **“Is that going to be a problem?”** Jack asked, scratching the underside of his jaw and raising an eyebrow.

The somewhat smug look on the strike commanders face irked the cowboy, a fire lit beneath him. He was determined to put the stuck-up boy scout in his place, and found himself shaking his head. **“Na’ it ‘aint a problem at all”** he turned away and approached the red line, holding the rifle a little awkwardly between his hands. It was nothing like his peacekeepers.

 _ **“Training begins in 5...4...3…2...1…”**_ Athena spoke softly before a gentle klaxon rang out, the cowboy raising the pulse rifle and levelling it with the first target none too far from his position. His hat shadowed the deep concentration on his face before his fingers squeezed the trigger and the rifle bucked violently with the recoil, spraying bullets wildly and jarring his shoulder. He released the trigger immediately and winced, feeling eyes burning into the back of him. Judgemental gazes just angering him more. An angry fighter made for a sloppy fighter and as he exhaled sharply and levelled the gun with another target the sporadic fire of bullets that strayed everywhere but the target just cemented his frustration. It was going to be a long session.

  ********* 

     **“OK, I’ve seen enough”** Jack spoke up as Jesse missed yet another target, the words almost feeling like a punch to the gut. The tension escaped the cowboy, shoulders slumping, gun hanging from his hand and his head bowed slightly, slow breaths escaping him. He was angry with himself and with the Strike Commander, the entire exercise feeling like a way to humiliate him.

The gun was pried away from his grip, Jack resting it casually on his shoulder while looking to Gabe. **“A word if you please Gabriel?”** he said, dumping the rifle on the table, before the pair left to talk in the hallway.

Jesse exhaled in annoyance, looking to the door and taking a few steps towards it, listening to the voices on the other side.

**“You told me he was the sharpest shooter you’d seen Gabe…”**

**“I know, and I stand by what I said”**

**“The kid couldn’t shoot himself in the foot without a map to guide him.”** Jack sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before speaking gently **“Look Gabe, I’m all for giving people a chance but if you just felt sorry for the kid then was having him join Overwatch really the best option?”**

 **“He’s not part of Overwatch remember?”** Gabe’s retort was rather snappy, the Blackwatch commander folding his arms sternly. **“The kid took down a number of my best agents by himself. He’s probably just acting out…”**

Jack sighed **“I trust your judgment Gabe, but if this is him acting out when he’s given a chance? I’d hate to see what he’d do on the field. Last thing we want is him going off the rails and disobeying orders-“**

**“- _We,_ don’t want anything. He’s my responsibility Jack- **

**“-Then I hope, for your sake, you can keep the kid under control. He comes from Deadlock Gabe, he’s unpredictable. I wouldn’t trust him as far as you can throw him…”**

  ********* 

   Jesse had heard enough. He fumed, hands balling into fists by his sides. He wasn’t just some tearaway kid looking to shoot someone in the back first chance he got. If he had, he would have turned the dam rifle on the two commanders immediately after being handed it. He wasn’t stupid, he knew an opportunity when he saw one, and he actually wanted to start making amends for his past. Shaking his head, he turned to leave bumping straight into a female figure, quickly steadying himself and apologising.

 **“In a hurry, Jesse?”** Ana asked with a gentle smile before hearing Jack and Gabe talking in the hall and frowning gently.

 **“I’m sorry ma’am I jus’-"** he raised his hands up apologetically and stared as Ana took his left hand and gently pressed the cold metal of a gun into his palm, the cowboy’s fingers clasping firmly around the familiar Peacekeeper that now rested there. **“How’d you-?"**

 **“Jack needs to understand that not all of us are soldiers. Some of us are scientists, some are mothers and some…”** she smiled **“Some of us are cowboys looking for a chance. This is your chance Jesse, now take it.”**

Jesse stared down at the gun and let the corner of his mouth curl into a smile **“Thank ye’ ma’am. I will”** the sound of the door opening and the two commanders walking back in turned his head, the gun hidden behind his back. He needed to wait for the right time.

 **“Captain Amari. I’m surprised to see you here”** Jack spoke gently, nodding his head in greeting at the female captain who reciprocated his greeting.

 **“I’m just being curious Jack. Please continue”** she gestured to the commander and took a spot beside the table, leaning against it gently.

 **“Well I would say we’re about done here. Maybe next time will provide better results?”** Jack said before looking to Gabriel who nodded once.

 **“It will…”** he growled, gently pushing Jesse into motion by the shoulder **“Come on kid”** he said gruffly before taking the lead.

 

Jesse had taken a few steps before stopping. He tightened his grip around the gun, whetting his lips before smirking. Turning suddenly, the silver gun glinted briefly **“Hey Commander!”** he called, seeing Jack glance up, panic in the blue hues as the soldier moved to grasp for his gun.

 **“McCree!”** Reyes boomed, taking a meagre two steps before the cowboy squeezed the trigger, the gun barking once, the bullet hitting its mark and staggering the Strike commander.

Turning quickly McCree managed to fire off another four shots at the various targets in the room, each pinging as the bullet connected perfectly, before Reyes bundled him roughly to the ground, the peacekeeper skittering across the floor, a knee in his back and a hand pushing his face against the cold training room floor.

 **“Have you lost your mind Niño?!”** Reyes bellowed in his ear before turning to look at the Strike Commander who was gently patting over his chest feeling for a wound only to pause as his fingers brushed over the mangled eagle badge that typically adored his left collar. Blue eyes shifted from it to each of the targets that were now swaying after being shot, the commander taking a slow breath.

 **“Let him up Reyes...no harm done”** Jack spoke steadily, watching as Gabe hesitated before hauling the cowboy to his feet.

Jesse brushed himself down, annoyed **“Dam right, ya’ll best let me up…”** he muttered, grabbing his hat from the floor and firmly placing it back on his head before meeting the Strike Commanders gaze sternly.

 **“It seems I was mistaken. You certainly know how to pick them Gabe.”** Jack unfastened the eagle badge and offered it to the cowboy gently **“You’re a good shot kid. But don’t you dare aim a gun at me again”** Jack said roughly.

 **“O’course Commander”** Jesse said, plucking the badge away and admiring the mangled metal where his bullet had connected, a smile crossing his features as Jack left the room and a sly look to Ana who dipped her head at him and stood to leave.

The hard hit of a palm to the back of his head staggered the cowboy, nudging his hat over his eyes and nearly causing him to drop the badge. Turning on the balls of his feet he looked back at Gabriel who looked furious. “ **Are you fucking insane?!”** Gabe barked before chuckling and holding a hand out for the pin, Jesse handing it over and watching as Reyes glanced over his handiwork. **“You’re a crazy son of a bitch kid…but you get shit done. You’re lucky I didn’t break your dam neck though”** he handed the pin back, slapping McCree on the shoulder once. **“Don’t know about you, but I need a drink after that, come on…”**

Jesse put the pin in his pocket and crossed the room to pick up his peacekeeper, spinning it once between his fingers before following Gabriel out of the training room.


	6. A Sparrows Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree finds himself sent on solo mission for Blackwatch in the heart of Hanamura. Tasked with infiltration and assassination of the Shimada Brothers to end the clans reign in the region what he uncovers will test him both physically and emotionally. With Reyes watching his every move the gunslinger is faced with a dilema that can't just be solved with the bullet in his gun.

Boots were silent against the wooden planks of the balcony, as McCree navigated his way towards the edge, freezing briefly at the sight of a young male knelt before a large tarp with two swords proudly on display before it. He flattened his back against the wooden pillar, checking the rounds in his peacekeepers and taking a slow breath before holstering one of his guns and pressing his finger to his ear to activate his comms link.

 **“Y’all sure this is the only way?”** he kept his words quiet, frowning at the rough voice on the other end of the line.

**“We’ve gone over this, the only way to bring these bastards down is to take out their chain of command. Now keep your mouth shut and your eyes peeled”**

McCree rolled his eyes, fishing a device from his pocket and looking at the dim screen to remind himself of his targets. The two brothers, the eldest sporting shoulder length black hair and a piercing gaze. Beside him a younger lad sporting bright green hair and a rather cheeky grin to match. It was hard to believe the pair were related in all fairness, even in this older photo it appeared like their personalities were worlds apart but yet these two men ruled the infamous Shimada clan. Another slow inhale and McCree put the device away, drawing his gun and aiming it at the green haired male, finger resting on the trigger. His brown hues shifted briefly, spotting a spider like drone scuttling silently along the wall opposite him. He was awaiting confirmation, and the second the small light on the drone flickered green his thumb slowly released the safety on his gun, a slow breath drawn in to steady his hand as he levelled his gun with the male’s head. His finger began to squeeze the trigger slowly, feeling the resistance building more and more before-

 **“Why am I not surprised to find you here.”** The voice echoed from the entrance, a long shadow edging into view. McCree pulled back sharply so as not to be seen, slamming his back flat against the large wooden pillar trying to calm his heart pumping in his chest. He took a few slow breaths, wiping his brow with his free hand and listening to the conversation.

The green haired male opened his eyes before sighing and gently getting to his feet, turning to face his brother. **“I sought a moments peace, to gather my thoughts brother. I did not know I needed to ask your permission to do so”**

The dark-haired male scowled at his brother **“You were not present at the meeting with the elders this evening. Need I remind you that it is your duty to attend?”**

 **“I did not wish to spend my night agreeing to actions I have no belief in brother.”** The green haired lad spoke calmly, and yet even from the balcony McCree could feel the tension between the pair.

**“You still stand by your foolish ideas Genji? Your absence was seen as a disrespectful act towards the elders. As a leader of the Shimada clan it is your duty to make amends for your actions. “**

Genji stood tall before speaking sternly **“You believe my ideas foolish, and yet they were built from the very stories father once told us. Stories of loyalty, honour and strength. Stories you once enjoyed hearing when we were boys.”**

 **“The stories father told us had no truth to them, and to believe such tales makes you even more of a fool than I first thought. To say you believe in such stories makes you nothing more than a boy.”** Hanzo took a few steps forward, turning to face Genji **“It is your duty to lead by my side brother. Swallow your pride, push aside foolish ideas and together we will make the Shimada clan great again.”**

 Genji frowned at the words before taking a step backwards. **“We will make the clan great once again Hanzo, but not through senseless violence and acts of brutality. Times are changing, it is time for the clan to adapt, less it be swallowed with the tides of change. You may not agree with my actions, but I stand by my beliefs. I have met with Omnics, and outsiders to form an alliance of forces. With you at my side brother we will achieve greatness for all who reside in Hanamura, not just ourselves. The world is at war Hanzo, we can either help it fight back or fight against it. Together we will be stronger…think about it”** Genji dipped his head once in farewell and turned on his heels, walking towards the exit.

Hanzo stood enraged, his brother dared go behind his back, the elders and the clan. Betray them and look to expose the clan, make them vulnerable to outsiders and Omnics alike. Glancing to his side the saw the two blades proudly on display, gently removing the bottom one, the blade glinting briefly in the light as he cradled it in his hands. **“You are a fool brother. You betray the clan with your actions...”** the silence hung for a moment before Hanzo tightened his grip around the sword handle. **“…it is my duty to deal with traitors no matter their status”**

McCree had been peering from behind the pillar, watching the entire exchange from the shadows. Genji seemed to seek a change of pace for the Shimada clan, forming an allegiance in order to assist the world instead of kicking out the supports beneath it. In a way it was like forming their own Overwatch and McCree couldn’t help but wonder if his mission should be altered accordingly. He didn’t have time to question the matter however as Hanzo uttered his final words. The man practically flew at his brother sword raised, the cowboy’s eyes widening, lips parting briefly and an intake of air sucking into his lungs as though he intended to shout a warning to the green haired Shimada.

The blade struck Genji across the back first. Crimson blood spattering the floor and staggering him with a yell of pain. Confused, the younger Shimada turned with a half stumble and only saw the rage in his brother’s eyes, scrambling out of the way of the second swing. **“Hanzo!? Please!”** Genji cried out only to stumble again. This allowed the blade to strike again, carving through the lads skin with ease.

McCree stood frozen in place, gun at his side. He watched the pair, Genji frantically trying to escape his brother, every swing of the sword causing a yell of pain, blood spattering across the wooden floor. Bloodied handprints, smears as the young Shimada caught himself mid stumble and tried to grab at the spare sword on the display. Another glint of steel and the swords clanged together, bloodstained blade pushing hard against the clean silver of the other.

 **“Hanzo! There is another way….”** Genji’s voice waivered as much as his arms, the lads clothing quickly starting to stain red.

Hanzo stared down at his brother **“You were a fool to disobey the clan Genji. You bring dishonour to us all!”**

The blood-stained blade tore free of Genji’s, swinging diagonally. Another yell of agony, the tarp behind the younger Shimada torn at the bottom and blood flecks ruining it. Genji’s sword clattered to the floor, his body swiftly following, the young lad grasping at the gaping wound across his chest, his back against the alter where the swords had been displayed. Defenceless, weak and scared. Hanzo held the sword at his side, blood dripping from the end of the blade before he drew in a slow breath and raised it again “I am sorry Brother….” He murmured.

McCree had seen more than enough by this point and had snapped himself back to reality as Genji hit the floor. Determination glinted in his eyes as he removed the safety from his gun and levelled it with Hanzo’s head this time, jaw clenching enough to form a headache behind his eyes as he drew a breath.

 **“McCree….McCree! Stand down!”** The cowboy ignored the furious yelling of Reyes on the other end of the comms. **“Fucking stand down! That’s an order!”** he saw the spider drone scuttle in his peripheral vision but his mind was made up. Hanzo raised his sword and the cowboy readied his shot.

 

 _Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_ Jesse had not expected the sudden assault on his ear drum, the high-pitched squeal of interference enough to stagger him in pain and stop him pulling the trigger. Gun hastily shoved back into his holster he stumbled backwards off the balcony and into the hall, yanking the comm piece from his ear and shaking his head briefly. The ringing was going to take a while to fade he reckoned, the high-pitched noise had ended, McCree hesitantly putting the piece back in his ear only to have Gabriel hurling abuse down the line.

 **“You’re fucking lucky I didn’t have someone shoot your ass Cowboy! Never disobey an order from me again is that understood!”** Reyes was thumping his fist against the table, exerting his anger and probably imagining it was a certain Blackwatch agents pretty face.

Jesse sucked in a breath between his lips, hearing a scream of agony from the younger Shimada, dreading to think what torture his so called brother was inflicting on him. “I weren’t gun’ let some stuck up asshole turn the kid into fucking crow food. Kid seemed alright…" He took a moment to catch his breath and regather his thoughts, ear still ringing from the assault **"...besides weren’t the mission to kill ‘em both? Why stop me?”** Jesse spoke with heavy breaths, his gaze not shifting from the entrance to the balcony again where all he could hear was the fading cries of pain and the sword cutting through the air.

 **“They’re doing the job for us, now get your ass out of there and back to extraction. Let the trash take itself out…now move it!”** the silence on the line angered Reyes further **“That’s a fucking order McCree! Am I understood?!”** he barked, staring down at the control panel before him with a scowl.

McCree took a slow breath, nodding to himself mostly **“Y-yes boss….”** He breathed, letting his hand fall from the comm piece. The screams had stopped now, the sound of the sword no longer cutting through the air. Just deathly silence

 Turning away was difficult, the cowboy silently heading down the stairs only to pause and watch the entrance as Hanzo exited slowly, bloodied sword still in his hand, leaving a spotted crimson trail. The amount of blood on it, McCree actually hoped the kid had died quickly. He waited for Hanzo to get out of sight and was about to make his own exit when he heard what sounded like a garbled cry of pain which froze him in place. **“He can’t ‘ave…”** McCree muttered to himself shaking his head about to continue his departure.

 

He found himself jogging back up the stairs and stepping out onto the balcony, his stomach violently twisting as the strong scent of blood invaded his senses. He stared at the carnage, deep pools of crimson blood around the room, smears showing signs of a struggle, the odd hand and footprint. All paths lead back to the alter where the young Shimada lay.

 

Jesse had faith in his strong stomach but seeing the state of the kid, his stomach flipped and he had to glance away for a second, eyes closing as he exhaled gently and looked back. Skin was shredded, a pool of blood having formed around the lad, soaking his clothes through. From this distance the cowboy couldn’t make out the gory details which made him breathe a gentle sigh of relief. **“Fucking hell….’ain’t nobody deserves that”** he said, removing his hat slowly and holding it against his chest. **“Sleep easy stranger…”** he murmured solemly, before placing his hat back on his head and turning to leave.

The garbled noise again, McCree looked back, seeing the Shimada stir against all odds. **“Sonnuva bitch is still kickin’…”** he hesitated before rolling his eyes and jogging down the stairs to the ground floor, gently jumping the small set of stairs and approaching the Shimada brother cautiously.

Bile rose in his throat, the extent of the mans’ injuries almost causing the cowboy to lose his lunch. Muscles, tendons and even bones were exposed from the carvings of the sword into the lad’s flesh. The coppery taste of blood was soaking his senses, invading every breath and clinging to his tongue. He bit down on a retch, a dry heave tightening his stomach, twisting it violently and draining some colour from the Blackwatch agents face. Even the kids face wasn’t spared, deep wounds almost looked as though they were intended to hide the victim. The only thing relatively unscathed was the swath of vibrant green hair atop the Shimada’s head.

The noise that escaped Genji’s lips was a garbled mess of words and pain, deep crimson blood bubbling over his lips and running down his chin before glazed eyes rolled to stare at the stranger before him. The pain he felt was intense, every inch of his body screaming, burning. Like being set slight and torn from the inside out. The stranger looked stoic in his cowboy hat, dark shirt, boots and cargo pants but yet the hazel hues that met his own gaze gave away everything. **“Please….”** Genji garbled, coughing as blood filled his mouth again, fingers weakly twitching. Maybe his suffering would be ended by this cowboy, he eyed the silver guns at the male’s hips and wished for the bullet that resided within it. Something to take away the pain he was in.

McCree stepped closer, crouching down beside the Shimada brother, not really sure what to do. His stoic expression shadowed by the brim of his hat shifted into a small reassuring smile as he saw the Shimada eye up his gun. **“I hear ya’ partner. Loud and clear…”** he stood slowly, drawing his gun and aiming it at the Shimada.

 **“McCree!”** that voice again, the cowboy growling angrily and ignoring it, once again removing the safety. **“You pull that trigger and I swear it’ll be the last thing you do Kid! I will make your life living hell count on it! No evidence…we were never here!”** Reyes barked down the line, staring at the screen, watching through the eyes of the spider drone that was still up on the wall. The grainy image showed the cowboy stood over the mortally wounded Shimada, gun drawn.

 **“Goddamit Reyes….he don’t deserve to die like this.”** he spoke through gritted teeth.

**“Stand down! Do not make me come down there….”**

**“Fuckin’ let's show the guy a bit of mercy-“** Jesse paused midsentence, eyes widening as an idea popped into his head. Mercy. He grinned, holstering his gun and crouching back by the Shimada’s side, tugging his neckerchief away from his neck and pressing the comms piece in his ear **“Sorry boss!”** he said, before switching lines.

The ringing was infuriating, Jesse looking down at the Shimada **“Jus’ hold on..."** he said before the click of the call being picked up made him stand suddenly.

 **“Doctor Angela Ziegler, how may I help you?”** the gentle Swiss tone was a welcome one for the cowboy.

 **“Angela!”** McCree blurted her name down the line a little more urgently than expected, he could almost feel the blonde doctor physically recoil at the brashness of his greeting.

**“McCree? Is that you? I thought you were on a mission this evening…wait is everything-“**

**“-Yes fine, are you wearing the Valkyrie suit?”** McCree tapped his boot wincing as it splashed in a small pool of blood. He was well aware of the spider drone scuttling frantically across the ceiling. Reyes was going to be furious, he knew that but maybe this act could benefit them.

Angela seemed confused by the request **“Why yes, I’m demonstrating it to a panel of experts this evening. Why do you ask?”** she frowned thoughtfully, biting on her thumb nail while waiting for the rough cowboy to explain his hasty phone call.

**“Look I hate to catch you with your pants down, but you need to get yourself here. This kids fixin’ to meet angels any moment. I’ve got Athena sending you my co-ordinates…”**

Angela frowned in concern **“Kid? What Kid? Jesse you’re not making any….”**

**“Just get yerself here....Oh, and bring your stick!”**

The line cut out before anymore could be said leaving Angela stood in the waiting area for her panel looking very confused. Her stick? He meant the Caduceus staff.

 **“Doctor Ziegler, they are ready for you now”**   Winston entered the room with a gentle smile, pausing at the doctors serious expression. **“Angela? Is everything ok?”** he asked, placing a large hand on her shoulder.

Angela nodded **“Yes…”** her blue hues met the framed ones of the Gorilla/Scientist before her **“Please extend my apologies, the presentation must wait. Duty calls..”** she smiled, before grabbing her staff from the table and running from the room.

McCree turned back to the Shimada, crouching down beside the male, and pressing his neckerchief to the largest wound to help stem the bleeding, ignoring the groan of pain that escaped him. **“Don’t you worry, help’ll be here real soon…”** he tried to shoot the male a reassuring smile but noticed Genji had slipped into unconsciousness leaving McCree with the silence of the room, the stench of blood and an impending sense of doom. He’d gone against orders, and providing Angela could perform a miracle and save Genji’s life then judging by the anger he’d heard over the comms from Reyes he’d probably have to ask the doctor for another miracle to keep Reyes from kicking his ass.

He exhaled slowly before hearing the rumble of the transport in the distance **“Jus’ hold on partner…”** he said, turning his attention to the entrance awaiting Angela’s arrival.


	7. Uprising of Kings Row

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reinhardt, Torb, Angela and new recruit Tracer have been sent in to assist with the Uprising of Null Sector in Kings Row. Intel came from Blackwatch Agent Jesse McCree who was already in the area for unknown reasons.
> 
> Now with the power station under threat and a number of Hostages still held by Null sector how will the Strike Team cope against the threat, and what was McCree doing while the Strike Team escorted the payload to the Power station.

**“I’ll call ya’ll back. It’s getting’ pretty Dicey here. McCree out!”** the cowboy uttered his final words, his peacekeeper barking loudly in quick succession, pumping bullets into the purple Omnic that stood before him before he cut his comms and got to work finishing the job at hand. Every shot was precise, the bullets tearing through metal and sending sparks flying as the Omnic finally toppled to the ground with a metallic clang. **“Stay down”** he muttered, the words slurred by his southern accent before a flail of bullets rained down on the Blackwatch agent, McCree leaping behind cover, taking a second to catch his breath and reload his gun, a sweat forming on his brow. “Give us a break” he mumbled, resting his head against the concrete cover left from feeble police retaliation. Peering through the gap he frowned at the Bastion unit and two Omnics firing at him, bullets ricocheting off the concrete barrier, slowly drilling holes. Brown hues turned skyward, the cowboy muttering a small countdown before rolling out, firing six round into the nearest Omnic and ducking behind a wall just as bullets tore up the ground where he had been stood seconds before.

Eventually a final bullet sent the bastion unit to its grave, nuts and bolts sparking off as the Omnics light dimmed with a saddened bleep. McCree let his arm fall to his side, hat tilting forward over his eyes, breathing heavy and a few new grazes on his chest plate. The other two Omnics had fallen first and now rest as scrap metal at his feet, sparking and fizzing sporadically. Jesse holstered his gun, briefly removing his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow before slapping it back on his head and stepping over his recent kills. There were folks holed up in Kings Row seeking a way out, innocent civilians wanting to escape the wrath of Null Sector. Even if Blackwatch duties were technically suspended, it didn’t mean he couldn’t do the right thing, after all he was already breaking one rule by being in Kings Row, what damage could another possible do?

 **“Get a move on…”** McCree ushered a group of civilians towards the border of Kings row urgently, his voice hissed so as not to draw attention to the already jumpy and somewhat snivelling civilians. One man grabbed the cowboy by the hand eager to thank him personally, Jesse patting the man on the arm with an irritated grimace **“Ye’ ye’ jus’ git goin or you won’t be thankin’ me in a moment”** he said, gently pushing the man into motion, watching as the last civilian crossed into safety before quickly flattening his own back up against the wall as some Slicers scuttled past. McCree had always thought the small omnics to resemble some sort of robot chicken or maybe a puppy, nevertheless he wasn’t going to try petting one any time soon. He had seen what happened to those who got too comfortable around Null Sector omnics, and he didn’t fancy experiencing it first-hand.

A rumble above him caught his attention, a dropship emblazoned with the Overwatch logo zooming overhead towards the centre of Kings Row before it descended. It wasn’t too long before the sound of gunfire rang through the air, the cowboy letting an impressed smirk cross his features as he set about lighting a cigarette. **“I’ll be damned, Morrison had the stones after all…”** he muttered, drawing deeply on the cigarette and exhaling the smoke before tapping a finger to his earpiece, listening in on the Strike Team, genuinely surprised to hear they had drafted in Lena for her first mission alongside Angela, Torbjorn and Reinhardt. They were going to blow open the doors to the power station, liberate it and hopefully rescue Mayor Nandah, Mondatta and all one hundred prisoners inside unharmed. Ambitious, but judging by the voice comms it sounded like the mission was steaming ahead. Flicking ash off his cigarette McCree glanced around before walking in the direction of the power station. Didn’t sound like they needed his help, but being in the area once they finished certainly secured him a free ride out of London, maybe even a drink from the pub.

********

 **“Stick together, we don’t know what could be waiting up ahead”** Doctor Angela Ziegler spoke with a firm yet gentle tone as she followed behind Reinhard and Torbjorn, her pistol grasped firmly in both hands, her Caducus staff on her back ready to be pulled into use at the first sign of trouble. They had successfully made their way into the power plant, taken out the four OR14 Units and 3 Bastion units that were tasked with guarding the entrance, and now they had to navigate it’s halls to locate the hostages. Reinhardt lead the group confidently, peering round corners and occasionally glancing back at the rest of the team, Torbjorn fiddling with his gun and Cadet Lena Oxton trailing ever so slightly behind Angela looking around at everything with a sense of awe. “Keep your eyes peeled” Reinhardt instructed gruffly, smiling at the team before pausing at the end of a hall, glancing left, then right.

 **“You’ve gotten us lost haven’t ye’?”** Torbjorn piped up, folding his arms and scowling slightly.

 **“Nonsense! We are simply-“** Reinhardt paused, faltering as he struggled to decide on a suitable word.

 **“-Lost”** Torbjorn said bluntly, as Lena walked past him, looking at either direction with intrigue.

 **“Don’t we have a map? Or a blueprint?”** she suggested with a smile, glad to see Angela lower her pistol and smile back at the suggestion.

 **“If we did we wouldn’t be lost”** Torbjorn retorted bitterly, stepping off to the side and looking at his comm device, flicking through numerous pages **“I’ll see what I can find”** he said, Reinhardt resting the end of his hammer on the floor with a nod, carefully watching for any approaching Omnics.

 **“How are you feeling Lena?”** Angela placed a hand on the young cadets shoulder, having silently approached her.

The Brit turned to look at the doctor with a smile **“I’m doin’ great!”** she said cheerfully, gently patting the chronal accellorator. **“No problems at all Doc”.**

The blonde medic nodded gently, holstering her pistol **“Excellent, do let me know if that changes though Lena. Commander Morrison would have our heads if we let anything happen to you on your first mission”** her lips parted to say something else when a string of curse words erupted from the Sweedish man in the corner. **“I had best go assist him”** she said before wandering over and plucking the device from his hand

 **“I had it under control!”** Torb insisted.

 **“Sure you did, that’s why you nearly threw it down the hallway”** Rein laughed loudly, standing behind Angela, a large hand placed on her slender shoulder.

 **“Yer makin’ a chicken out of a feather!”** Torbjorn protested, arms folding. The pair were soon lightly bickering like an old couple while Angela continued to look through the mission files on the comm device for any blueprints they could use.

 

Lena laughed to herself, turning on her heel and kicking at the floor while she waited. Her first mission and she was going to help save Kings Row. To finally see the fighting stop, to save her home and show Morrison what she was made of filled her with pride. She turned again, just catching the glimpse of purple near the end of the hallway they had just come from. She froze, narrowing her eyes, trying to focus before spotting the four Bastion Units setting up. “Bastions!” She yelled in warning. Reinhardt reacted quickly, shoving himself in front of Torbjorn and Angela, popping his shield. Lena moved to head towards the safety of the shield when a flurry of bullets shredded the floor in front of her, causing her to blink back with a yelp.

 **“Lena! Go!”** Reinhardt bellowed before digging his feet in and bracing himself as the Bastions open fired on the shield, bullets bouncing off the rectangle.

Blinking away from another hail of bullets, Lena found herself on the other side of the hallway to the rest of her team watching nervously as Reinhardt, Torbjorn and Angela were forced to retreat round the other corner. The bullets didn’t stop, churning up the back wall and preventing anyone from crossing the hall. Angela found herself resting a hand gently on Reinhards arm **“What do we do?”** she asked, worry in her eyes as the German shook his head.

 **“I don’t know…”** he replied with a concerned frown etched on his features before he saw Lena eyeing up for an opportunity.

 **“Lena, don’t…that Bastion will tear you apart”** Reinhardt bellowed before the warning beep boop of the Bastion switching into it’s tank form shook the halls.

The first shot exploded off the back wall, showering Tracer with debris and causing Reinhardt to turn his shield. Seperated with a Bastion Tank now shooting at them made regrouping near impossible. Every shot fired shook the hallway further, Tracer stepping back and biting hard on her lip, taking a few breaths to calm her nerves. **“Two blinks….oughta do it”** she said readying to run, the shoot fired and Tracer blinked forwards taking a second before blinking only for the ground to explode infront of her, knocking her back and to the floor while the ceiling buckled and creaked before caving in, separating Reinhardt, Torb and Angela from her.

**“Lena! Lena can you hear us?!”**

 

The remainder of the strike team found themselves frantically dashing towards the blockade, tugging a rubble attempting to shift it, hands tugging at rocks, Reinhardt swinging his hammer into the rocks repeatedly before Angela stepped back, her hand going to her mouth. **“We need to contact Jack…”** she said, worry in her blue eyes.

The trio looked at each other before nodding **“I’ll do it…”** Reinhardt spoke solemnly, while Angela and Torbjörn continued to try and pry away some of the rubble, the sound of fighting fading away on the other side, only making their concern deepen for their new team member.

 **“Commander, we have a situation.”** Reinhardt spoke sternly, waiting for Jack to pick up on the channel.

Jack stood in stunned silence as he listened to Reinhardt explain what happened, his fist pushing into the table to stop himself angrily lashing out for even thinking about sending Tracer on such a risky mission. Ana Amari was stood beside him.“ **You couldn’t have known this would happen Jack. You must not blame yourself for the actions of Omnics”** she said softly, the commander nodding slowly.

 **“Easier said than done Ana…”** he murmured.

 

********

McCree was sat on an old wooden box tucked in an alleyway smoking a cigarette when the comm channel he was listening too erupted into a frenzy. Caught off guard by the sudden barrage of noise he plucked it from his ear with a wince, leaning his back against the wall, drawing another breath of smoke, the end of the cigarette glowing in the dingy alley as he put his earpiece back in to hear the exchange, his brow furrowing in thought as the conversation unfolded.

 **“What are your orders commander….”** Reinhardt’s voice was first, strong but with a small waver to his booming tone, the crackle of radio silence unusual for a mission channel.

Back in Switzerland Jack Morrison was staring down at the main panel, hands face down on the desk, his gaze giving away his concern, his anger, his upset. Ana Amari was stood off to the side, watching him sadly. He had a choice to make, a choice he never wanted to be faced with. Drawing a breath Jack eventually spoke **“Is there any contact from Lena?”** he asked **“Is there any way you can reach her safely?”** he added, praying for a miracle.

 **“We have been unable to obtain a response from her, and the way is blocked. We can’t even make a gap big enough to look for her…”** Angela spoke gently, Jack closing his eyes, his head hanging in defeat and drawing a slow breath.

 **“Your orders are to complete the mission. Innocent lives are at risk, we just have to hope…that Lena is ok and able to take care of herself until we can send help…”** Jack’s voice was heavy with emotion and regret, the stunned silence on the channel making him doubt his decision to abandon the cadet on her first mission.

 **“Yes Sir….we will complete our mission…”** Reinhardt nodded once, signing off the channel along with the rest of the strike team, leaving Jack and Ana stood in the Switzerland command room in a deafening silence.

 **“For what it’s worth, I think you’ve made the right choice Jack. Lena is a strong woman, she will be able to look after herself, I have no doubt. For now, we can just hope for the best”** Ana placed a hand on his arm with a gentle smile. **“I’ll fetch some tea, let me know if you hear anything”** she asked.

Jack met her gaze, nodding **“Time will tell…thanks Ana”** the Strike Commander watched as the woman left the room before his blue hues drifted over the touchscreen panel thoughtfully.

 **“Sir, communication has been requested on line 6. Shall I patch it through?”** Athena spoke softly after a long silence, Jack sitting down in his chair with a nod. **“Patch it through”** he said gruffly, leaning back with his eyes closed, arms folded across his chest.

**“Commander Morrison…”**

Jack sat upright at the sound of McCree's voice, his eyes wide. He had completly forgotten about the Blackwatch agent being in the vicinity, immediately opening the channel to speak **“McCree? What’s your status?”** he asked, gripping the edge of the table.

 **“ Oh I reckon bout a yard from the power station entrance …”** McCree replied before frowning **“I heard the Strike Team over comms…any word from Oxton yet?”**

Jack shook his head **“No, not a word from her. Athena can’t track her either. Her comms are either broken or…”** He trailed off, the words not needing to be said aloud a long silence falling, could he even consider asking? Jack glanced around briefly before rubbing his jawline.

 **“I…have a favour to ask of you…”** Jack said, resting his chin on his hand thoughtfully.

McCree took the opportunity to flick his cigarette to the floor, crushing it beneath his boot before placing a finger to his ear piece. **“I’m listening, although I’m pretty certain I know exactly what yer gonna ask me.”** he said, casually adjusting his hat **“I’ll do it…”** he added.

Jack exhaled slowly **“What I’m asking you to do isn’t easy McCree…”** he muttered, running his hands through his hair to the nape of his neck.

Jesse chuckled on the end of the line **“You know as well as I do commander...ain’t nothin’ easy these days. ‘Sides, I’m already in the power plant now, no turnin’ back”**

 **“That’s true…Thank you”** he frowned, clasping his hands together **“Just…just bring her home safe Jesse”** he asked gently.

McCree was already walking into the power station **“Of Course Commander…McCree Out.”** He said drawing his gun and cutting the channel.

********

Tracer winced as she opened her eyes, finding herself lying on her front in the hallway her ears ringing. Her mind kicked into gear as she heard the Bastion beep again, scrambling to her feet and blinking just as the spot she had been lying in exploded from the tank shot. Glancing back over her shoulder she saw the other route where the rest of her team should have been, completely blocked by debris. She was on her own for this one it seemed and the only way was forward.

Lena had wandered somewhat aimlessly through the halls of the power station, finding the odd dead end, dead null sector Omnic and of course dead human. Eventually, and somewhat unfortunately she found herself in one of the guarded generator rooms where she was confronted by a number of unhappy Eradicators. She had drawn her pulse pistols in an instant and gotten to work dispatching the enemies, zipping around them with ease, emptying clips into their exposed backs or heads, zipping back and finishing one off, then the other. What she hadn’t anticipated was how demanding her Chronal Accelerator would be on her physically. The more she blinked the more it’s battery drained, but so did her own energy levels.

Blinking behind another eradicator, she hadn’t accounted for the flailing robot limb, which swiftly collided with her chest, knocking her off her feet and sending her to the floor, both pulse pistols skittering out of her hands. She grunted in pain, her limbs heavy before she tried to recall, the failed whirring telling her all she needed to know. It needed recharging, and of course at the worst possible time. Rolling over she stared up at the Eradicator aiming its gun at her menacingly.

 **“Charging Primary Weapon…”** The robot voice pierced through the air, Lena’s eyes widening in fear as the end of the weapon began to illuminate. No blinks, little energy or chance of running. Her eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for the inevitable.

Bang! Bang! Two loud shots echoed in the room, Lena opening her eyes to see the Eradicator spark, hiss and promptly crumple to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Behind, her assailant stood gun still held in position, a gentle smoke escaping the peacekeeper, gaze shadowed by his all too familiar hat. Jesse McCree. Silence filled the air, before the gunslinger spun his weapon expertly between his thumb and forefinger replacing it in its holster and approaching the Overwatch agent, spurs clinking gently with each step.

 **“Howdy rookie…you doin’ alright?”** he smiled at her, offering her a gloved hand which Lena grabbed without hesitation, allowing herself to be yanked to her feet with ease. She took a second to pat herself down, double checking the eradicator was dead before nodding **“Yeah …thanks luv”** she breathed, watching as McCree crossed the room to retrieve her pistols.

 **“Should really keep a better hold on these darlin’”** he teased, glancing back at her with a smirk **“Might not be so lucky next time…”** he added, scooping the pistols off the floor, taking a moment to look over the light weapons.

Lena exhaled in gentle relief nodding in agreement **“I’ll remember that for next time…”** she remarked closing the distance between them **“What…how…”** she blew her hair from her face in frustration, rethinking her words **“What are you doing here?”** she asked, gratefully taking her pistols back from him.

 **“I was in the area, figured I’d lend a hand”** McCree responded with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulder, hands resting casually on his waist, thumbs hooked under his belt. **“Besides, couldn’t let nothin’ happen to yer on your first mission now could we rookie?”** he smirked, his hat casting a shadow across his features as Lena nodded in relief.

 **“Well, thank you Jesse. I didn’t even know you were in London…I thought all Blackwatch operations were suspended?”** she asked, the cowboy nodding and rubbing the back of his neck.

 **“That they are, but that don’t mean I can’t lend a hand when the need arises”** he glanced around before appearing to remember her comms unit, removing his own ear piece and fiddling with it. His gloved fingers easily detaching a part, his other hand held out for her broken device.

 **“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it means…”** Lena hesitated before handing over her broken ear piece, watching as Jesse swapped over some parts promptly handing her back a functional device.

 **“Minor details. Here, you’d best call in. I reckon there’s some very concerned folk waiting to hear from you”** he passed her, crouching beside the eradicator, perched on the balls of his feet, arms resting on his legs as he looked over the Omnic.

Lena put the comms piece back in her ear before calling into the channel. **“Cadet Oxton checking in…”** she said, scuffing her foot against the floor as she waited.

**“Lena!”**

**“Oxton!”**

**“Rookie!”**

All three variations were bellowed across the channel by her strike team and commander Morrison, the Brit wincing at the barrage of noise but smiling at their relieved tones.

 **“Lena, are you injured?”** Angela spoke next, the simple phrase opening another barrage of concerned questioning.

 **“Be quiet a second”** Morrison spoke sternly before continuing **“Lena, what’s your status?”** Jack glanced up from the panel as Ana entered the room with a cup of tea in each hand, relief spreading across her face when she heard the Brit responding, mouthing a silent _'told you so'_ before handing the commander his drink and sitting down herself, sipping her tea quietly.

 **“I’m fine, just a little bruised. My chronal accelerator is experiencing a bit of an energy problem but nothing I can’t handle. Currently I’m in one of the generator rooms, hard to say which one though”** she saw McCree stand up in her peripheral vision, the cowboy adjusting his hat and taking the chance to light a cigarette, the pair catching each other’s gaze. **“Honestly it’s a good thing that Mc-“**

Jesse immediately looked alarmed, waving at her to stop speaking and shaking his head at her sternly. He wasn’t supposed to be here, Blackwatch was suspended and the less people that knew the better. In Switzerland Jack had tightened his grip around the tea cup in his hands, seeing Ana’s judgmental gaze settle on him. He knew McCree was responsible for Lena’s safety, he could see the Agent ID she was calling on and knew the number wasn’t anywhere near the one Tracer had been assigned when she joined Overwatch. Fortunately, not many others took notice of their Agent ID’s, so while McCree’s ID flashed up on the screen, it was Lena’s name that flashed beside it. Clever, yet effective.

Lena swallowed once, before continuing **“Sorry….I said it’s a good thing my cadet training covered Omnics…came across an eradicator or two.”** She received a firm nod of approval from McCree and a tip of his hat before he went on to continue smoking his cigarette. Suspicion averted, and even in HQ Ana averted her gaze back to her cup of tea, Jack relaxing gently. He shouldn’t have encouraged use of suspended Blackwatch assets, but he couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

 **“Reinhardt, Torbjörn, Angela I want you to continue through the power station, see if you can find those hostages and stabilise the power fluctuations. Oxton…”** he paused, thinking about her situation. **“…I want you to scout where the strike team haven’t been yet. If you come across the hostages call it in and await further instructions”**

 **“Yes Sir!”** her enthusiasm was admirable and drew a smile to the commanders face

**“Morrison out!”**

Lena closed the channel, stopping the questioning from Reinhardt about how she had taken down an eradicator, plucking the comms device from her ear and approaching McCree, offering it back with a gentle thank you.

Brown hues settled on her hand before the cowboy shook his head, drawing on his cigarette and exhaling the smoke before closing her fingers around the device. **“Keep it. You’ll need It more than I do for now, besides it stops Reyes giving me damn grunt work”** he said with a smirk before flicking his cigarette to the floor and crushing it beneath his boot, heading for the door stopping to glance back at her. **“You comin’?”** he asked.

**“But I thought you-“**

**“-you thought I’d what? Just leave you here? Listn’ here Darlin’, I may be Blackwatch, and yeah I can be a cocky son’uva bitch, but I’m no ass and I ain’t leavin’ ya here”** he held the door open **“Sorry to say it but yer’ stuck with me. Now mosey on over here and let’s get goin’ before more of those Null Sector bastards show up”**

Lena nodded, placing her earpiece back and gently jogging over, walking with McCree into the power station to hunt for hostages, taking a few seconds to check her chronal accelerator when it flickered briefly in warning at her. Appeared the power issue hadn’t been fully ironed out by Winston yet.


	8. It Just Takes Two

The pair walked through the halls of the power station quietly, avoiding Omnics by ducking out of sight until they passed. Finally, they approached a large double door the word “'Conference room' engraved in the brass plate that hung above the door. **“If I were hiding over a hundred hostages a conference room would be the place to do it…”** Tracer piped up with a smile before dashing forward to take a closer look. **“Aw rubbish…”** she said, stepping aside to reveal the problem.

A heavy chain was wrapped around the door handles a number of times and padlocked to prevent entry, drawing a thoughtful hum from Jesse as he began glancing round for an alternate route. **“Looks like a maintenance ladder. With any luck, it’ll get us inside"** he said placing a hand on the side of the ladder and tipping his hat back slightly with his index finger on the other hand. **“Ladies first"** his accent slurring the words gently watching as she grabbed the rungs without hesitation and began to climb the ladder, opening the maintenance hatch at the top with ease and crawling inside McCree looking around before followed suit.

The maintenance shaft he concluded was more of a ventilation shaft, the small metal confides causing him to move slower and hold his hat between his teeth so as to give him more headroom. He muttered cuss words through the fabric before reaching a grate that had not been opened concluding that Lena had taken a different route. He was above what looked like the conference control room and hoped Lena had also end up in the same place.

After a lot of grunting with exertion McCree managed to turn himself around in the small crawl space, kicking his heavy boot against the grate to force it open before he dropped down into room with a thud, standing up and slapping his hat back on his head where it belonged and stretching his shoulder out with a grimace while crossing the room, pausing when he saw Tracer on the other side of the media control panel, her hands pressed up against the glass, the glow of her chronal accelerator illuminating the darker side of the room. **“Hey"** he called, walking around the desk to see what she was looking at quickly frowning at the scene that lay before them.

The conference media control room had a clear view of the entire room. Rows of seats were empty, engulfed in near darkness aside from the occasional red glint of an Omnic eye. A large stage, typically the home of great news and large profits housed all the Null Sector hostages. The humans and few Omnics were huddled together, looking frightened, pale faces and wide eyes watching any movement made by the Eradicator and Bastion units that surrounded them. At the centre of the Hostages Mondatta sat beside the Mayor, the Omnic peace advocate obviously appearing much calmer than the nervously shaking human mayor beside him. An OR14 Null Sector member approached the group of hostages, heavy metal legs thudding against the stage loudly. All eyes, human, Omnic and Null Sector turned to face the intimidating OR14.

**“No communication has been received to negotiate the release of the hostages.”**

The robotic voice echoed around the room **“Null Sector will be recognised. Initiating Protocol 174-A Begin segregation of hostages”** a number of Bastion and Eradicator units moved collectively, every step synchronised as they approached the stage before the group of hostages was divided into eight groups of 12 and moved off to the side of the stage with a guarding Null Sector Omnic. This left four humans stood in the middle of the stage, shuffling closer together then backwards as the OR14 Unit approached them menacingly, only stopping when the humans felt their backs touch the wall.

**“Null Sector demands will be met. Initiate Protocol 175X.”**

The OR14 unit heavily moved to the side, two bastion units taking its place and quickly transforming into their sentry form, large guns glinting menacingly at the four humans. Everything clicked into place, those facing the Bastion units immediately broke down with a flurry of desperate cries and sobs, pleading for mercy, while those safe in the wings averted their eyes or screamed in disbelief.

**"Oh god!"**

**"Please have mercy!"**

**"You fuckers! You Monsters!"**

The whirr of the Bastion’s machine guns starting up drowned out the screams before bullets tore into the four innocent civilians.

Blood sprayed up the wall in an arch, bodies shredded beyond recognition by the excessive barrage of bullets, the rattling of the empty bullet cases hitting the floor almost melodic before two clunks signalled the end of the assault. The last two metal shell casings plinked against the stage floor, rolling towards the pool of dark crimson blood which was slowly seeping towards the front of the stage, a deafening silence before the occasional broken sob shook through the remaining hostages.

**“Protocol 175X-A complete. Initiate Protocols 174-B and 176”**

One of the Eradicators began to take one human from each group, leading them to the back of the stage, prodding them in the back with their gun when they refused to co-operate. **“Protocol 175X-B will be executed if no attempt at communication is made by the human prime minister”** The OR14 spoke over the sobbing hostages before stomping towards the edge of the stage, all four legs splashing through the pool of blood before it left.

McCree stood in stunned silence, brown hues filling with anger before Lena shifted beside him, anger radiating off her in waves as she gripped her pistols tightly. She moved quickly towards the door, McCree dashing after her, jumping the control panel to try and cut her off. **“Lena…Lena stop!”** he hissed just managing to grab her wrist as she tried to dart out the door. She fought his attempt, Jesse grunting and half wrestling with her before he clamped a gloved hand over her mouth to silence her, hauling her backwards into the room before closing the door and turning quickly to face her. **“Now hold on…”** he said, hands raised, his hat falling over his eyes slightly.

 **“Hold on?! Hold On?! We just watched those poor people get executed and you want me to hold on?!”** Lena fumed, she was upset, angry and desperate to help. She was twitching, looking for a way around the cowboy, McCree keeping on the balls of his feet ready to intercept.

**“Morrison wants you to wait for backup-“**

**“We wait and we may as well kill those people ourselves. I won’t…I can’t!”** she blinked past him, McCree moving quickly, bundling her against the door to stop her opening it, **“Let go of me! We can’t let those poor people be executed…”** She bucked and squirmed like a wild horse, McCree receiving an elbow to the nose at one point before he slammed her back against the wall and clamped a hand over her mouth, staring into her eyes angrily

 **“Will you just Hush up a second and let me get a goddam word in?”** he hissed, blood trickling from his nose, the pair of them breathing heavily before hot, angry tears escaped Tracers eyes and she nodded, allowing McCree to release his grip and take a step back, wiping his brow.

 **“Fuckin’ hell…”** he said, resting his hands on his hips **“Yer slipperier than a greased pig…”** he perched on the edge of the control panel, arms folding as Tracer wiped tears from her cheeks.

 **“I’m sorry…I just…seeing what happened…I don’t want to watch it again”** Tracer hung her head, arms wrapping around herself while Jesse frowned in gentle concern before leaning forward slightly, trying to make eye contact.

 **“Look Darlin', Nothin’ can prepare you for this job. The world can be pretty dam fucked up at times, but rushin’ in like that? It ain’t guna help nobody, just get you killed. You have orders to follow. As for what we do after that?”** he leaned back with a smirk. **“Well now, between us I reckon we stand a pretty good chance of getting those folks outta here in one piece. Whaddya say?”** he pushed himself to his feet, adjusting his hat slightly and smirking as Lena looked up at him, wiping a lone tear from her cheek before smiling.

 **“Yeah”** she said, renewed enthusiasm running through her before she raised a finger **“Um…just one thing** " she said, tapping it against her lip, Jesse raising an eyebrow at her. **“Your nose”** she said gently gesturing to it before wiping under her own. **“Sorry about that”** She said as Jesse wiped at his nose, spotting the blood on his hand and looking genuinely surprised before wiping the rest away with the back of his glove.

 **“I’ll be honest, I’ve had worse. Check in with your strike team, I’m going’ see what we’re dealin’ with”** he said before opening the door and silently making his way along the balcony, sticking to the shadows and surveying the conference room from different angles, grateful for the high vantage point.

 *******

Lena confirmed the hostage situation with Morrison and the strike team before joining McCree, the Blackwatch agent leaning against the railing thoughtfully. As she approached he glanced to her, the look on his face telling her silence was needed before she leaned next to him when he slowly waved her over. His gloved hand pointed out all three exits points, one of which they knew was already locked tight. He then pointed to one of the Bastion units holding up five fingers before proceeding to point out each one in succession, then repeating the process for the standard Null Troopers and the Eradicators. Straightening up she noticed he was chewing an unlit cigarette between his teeth, rolling it to the other side of his lips thoughtfully before he plucked it free and headed back towards the sanctuary of the media room, staying silent until the door closed behind them. **“This ain’t guna be no walk in the park…”** he said, hooking his thumbs through his belt and shifting his weight to his left foot.

Lena nodded at him in agreement, determination in her eyes **“We have to do something”** she said, her head held high, the action drawing an amused smirk to McCree’s lips.

The plan was a fairly simple one. McCree would aim to take out the Bastion units while Tracer handled the Eradicators and they could between them easily take on the Null Troopers. With any luck they could get the job done quickly and escort the hostages out of the power station. Jesse watched Tracer silently slide down the ladder towards the conference main floor, the Brit ducking behind some chairs and waiting the cowboys signal. McCree remained on the metal balcony, the brim of his hat shadowing his features as he lined up his first shot, eyes narrowing, finger slowly pulling the trigger.

Bang! The Bastion let out a bleep of alarm as the bullet ripped into its back, the other Omnics quick to spin around looking for the attacker. McCree managed to rattle off another two shots before his location was pin pointed, downing one Bastion and injuring another before bullets rained on him forcing him to dive out the way. A flash of blue and a giggle alerted him to Tracers intervention, the rookie darting between the Null Sector Omnics with ease, swiftly emptying her pulse pistols into the back of an Eradicator before dashing behind another, one of the Bastions shooting into its shield taking out one of their own. McCree was already back on his feet, gun ready and another three bullets dispatched before he had to avoid another attack from the Bastion Units.

Tracer bobbed and weaved between the Eradicators, managing to turn some fire away from McCree and allowing the gunslinger to fire off a few shots, taking down a few more Bastion Units and even some Null Troopers. The metal walkway McCree was stood on was taking a battering, a few bullets actually piercing through the floor and causing him to step back quickly before firing off another two rounds. He didn’t see the tank unit straight away and dove sideward just as it fired on his position, buckling the walkway and showering him with debris. He heard Tracers concerned call, getting to his feet and quickly firing another six rounds into the tank as a response, aware of a few grazes littering his arms and face now. **“Sneaky fucker”** he growled, reloading and firing again, grateful for Tracers input as she blinked over and emptied her pulse pistols into it repeatedly, the dual assault confusing the tank bastion before it fired again randomly towards the walkway again causing McCree to dive out of the way once again. Tracer blinked closer to the Bastion, emptying another clip into the Omnic, a saddened bleep escaping as the light faded from its battered shell.

 **“Jesse?”** Tracer called up towards the walkway with a concerned frown, standing on her toes as if it would help her see more.

McCree breathed out heavily, slapping a hand onto the railing and tugging himself to his feet while glancing back to the slightly mangled walkway, the metal twisted by the blast, the railing gone and a gap that could easily be jumped. He grunted, holstering his gun and lifting a hand to show Lena he was alright, rotating his shoulder before running a hand through his hair when he realised his hat had been knocked off his head during the fight. Had he been looking he would have seen Lena breathe out in relief before she smiled and turned to the hostages who had huddled together on the stage now staring at their rescuers in awe. **“It’s alright, cavalry’s here!”** she said with a grin, taking some satisfaction from the relieved looks that crossed the humans faces as she made her way over.

Mondatta stood slowly, hands clasped together in front of him. **“You have our eternal thanks. I apologise for my Omnic brethren, such actions are unjust and they will be judged by the Iris. One day we shall reach peace and unity between Omnics and Humans will be achieved”** the Monk Preacher spoke with an unusually calm undertone even for a machine, drawing a gentle smile from Lena.

 **“Just doing our job”** Tracer said cheerfully, glancing up to the walkway where McCree was retrieving his hat before carefully making his way across the broken walkway back towards the conference media room. **“I just wish we could have helped sooner”** Her gaze drifted to the bodies before following the trail of blood to the end of the stage, her eyes closing sadly opening when she felt the cold metal of Mondattas hand on her shoulder.

 **“It is regrettable, but they will be looked after in the next life, of that I am sure. Your actions today have saved many others from the same fate, for that the Iris shines brightly upon you”** the Omnic pulled his hand away when Mayor Nandah somewhat rudely suggested they stop chewing the fat and get the hell out of the power station.

 **“Of course! Exit’s this way, let’s get a move on”** Lena said blinking past the group to show them the exit.

 **“Intruders detected! Eliminating threats!”** The OR14 unit had entered through the other exit, all four robot eyes glowed bright red before the gun was raised, pointing towards the stage and consequently the hostages making their escape.

 **“Oh no. Hurry! To the exit!”** she urged the hostages, the humans and Omnics quickly fleeing towards the exit, the end of the OR14’s gun glowing red hot as it charged to open fire on the group. Tracer stood wide eyed, there wasn’t enough time, there was nowhere to hide, after all their hard work more Hostages were going to die, she drew a breath.

 **“Hey! Ya’ oversized tin can!”** Jesse shouted down from the walkway, firing a few rounds into the Omnics head. The OR14 let out a robotic yell, staggering on its four legs before its head turned to the cowboy who was quickly darting across the walkway, leaping the damaged part with ease and heading for the sanctuary of the media room. Without missing a beat the OR Unit raised its left arm, firing a bright green orb towards the damaged section of the walkway.

 **“Halt!”** it barked before the orb seemed to self-implode, tearing the already somewhat mangled walkway away from the wall and breaking it in two.

Jesse felt the walkway jolt beneath him, the sudden movement knocking him off balance. He looped an arm around the railing to stop himself hitting the floor and grunted before frowning and pushing himself into motion only for the metal to creak and groan in protest. The walkway shuddered, jolted then dropped, angling steeply towards the floor.  His hand grasped for anything to stop his fall as the floor all but vanished beneath his feet, fingers scrabbling at the smooth metal of the walkway floor before he felt wind whistle past his ears. He turned his body as best he could so as to avoid landing flat on his back and heard Lena yell his name in alarm before he hit the floor with a sickening thud.

At some point, he passed out for a few seconds, but as his body collided with the floor he was sure he heard a bone or two crack under the force, the air forced from his lungs violently and darkness swarming his vision before pain could rear its ugly head. The sounds around him when he came to were somewhat warbled, like surfacing from under water, muffled gun shots, Omnic commands and the occasional concerned call of his name from Lena who was attempting to distract the OR14. He forced his eyes open, the world blurring into focus and for a moment he wondered why everything was turned on its side before realising that was how he had landed.

 **“Jesse! You alright?!”** Lena blinked away from more gun fire, spotting the cowboy lying on his side with his eyes open and a confused look on his face.

 **“Yeah…”** his voice was hoarse, words stolen by the lack of air in his lungs before he rolled off his side, pain exploding through his right shoulder and ribs. He stifled a cry of pain, gritting his teeth and gripping his shoulder, a sweat forming on his brow as he waited desperately for the pain to subside.

 **“Jesse?”** Lena called again before narrowly avoiding some more bullets, her concern for him growing as she caught the pained grimace etched on his features and his lack of movement. She dashed towards him, turning to avoid another hail of bullets only to feel one collide with her Chronal accelerator knocking her to the floor with a pained yell, the device crackling and sparking as it struggled to remain functional. Satisfied it's target was incapactitated, the OR14 approached the Brit, gun raising to level with her back as she tried to get back on her feet.

Jesse’s head was pounding, eyes squeezed shut and teeth grinding together. Hearing Tracers yelp he forced his eyes open, adrenaline spiking through him as he saw her body tumble across the floor, sparks escaping her chest. They hadn’t come this far to fail, he wasn’t going to watch her be executed. McCree took a few sharp breaths and rolled over quickly, forcing himself onto his feet in a swift motion while biting down hard on his tongue to silence a pained noise that wanted to escape his lips. He staggered, still holding his right shoulder with his left hand, the arm hanging limp and unresponsive by his side. He grunted in annoyance realsiing his reloading arm was out of action before looking for his gun and scooping it off the floor with his left hand, raising it with pained breaths and firing four times. Every recoil jarred his shoulder and chest, causing dark speckles to swarm his vision as his body fought against passing out from the pain. The OR14 turned to face him with an angry series of bleeps, the cowboy smacking his lips together briefly as a coppery taste enveloped his tongue where he had bitten down on it.

 **“Cease your resistance human!”** it commanded, turning its gun towards the Blackwatch agent.

McCree took an uneasy step backwards and managed a small chuckle **“Ain’t a soul alive that’s stopped me resistin’ sunshine...”** his southern drawl somewhat breathless before he fired another shot with a grimace.

 

Lena pushed herself onto her knees, looking towards McCree who was drawing the OR14 away from her. He looked like shit to be frank. No hat to hide his unruly chestnut hair, arm hanging limply by his side, a pale glow to his skin and a sweat on his face as he fought through the pain. Blood mottled his nose, cheeks and a dark streak ran down the side of his head, already drying thankfully but the unease of his movements worried her. She moved to stand, her chronal accelerator sparking violently and staggering her with an irritated sigh. She watched helplessly as McCree holstered his gun awkwardly, gripping his shoulder and taking a few more steps away and frowning in determination.

 **“Lena! Get those folks outta here”** he snapped, spotting stragglers on the stage. He had no doubt that the group were stood just outside the door confused and waiting to be led like sheep. His fingers dug into his arm, gripping it tightly before he clenched his jaw and forced the shoulder joint back into place with a nauseating pop. He cried out in pain, staggering briefly before stumbling backwards, taking the chance to scoop his hat off the floor and slap it on his head. His right shoulder was burning, the pain a pulsating reminder of the no doubt mangled muscle and tendons he has probably trapped by forcing the dislocated limb in place himself, but as he gave the fingers on his right hand a gentle wiggle he smirked knowing full well he could reload again. **“Lena…fuckin’ move yer ass!”** he growled, drawing his gun with his left hand and forcing a speed loader into the barrel before firing another 6 shots and repeating the action continuing to shuffle backwards towards the other exit, his spurs jingling with each step, the OR14 following almost blindly, its gun charging.

Lena struggled to her feet, brushing her hair from her face and watching Jesse lure the OR14 away, his barked words made her move albeit it some hesitance her head whipping around to see the last hostage leaving through the stage exit. Maybe she could still help, maybe she could-

 **“-GO!”** Jesse barked, darting out the exit as bullets sprayed where he had been stood moments before. The OR14 ceased firing, standing silent, some wires exposed and hanging loose, its processing was slower, but it wasn’t going to give up.

 **“Engaging target!”** Its voice was jarred, but all four feet moved, somewhat sporadically,after the gunslinger with determination. The Omnic was severly damaged and with luck the Blackwatch agent had a decent head start.

Lena bit hard on her lip before turning towards the stage exit and regrouping with the hostages outside. **“Follow me, and keep quiet”** she instructed, resting a hand on her chronal accelerator in a feeble attempt to stop it’s sparking and fizzing before leading the group of hostages down the hallway trying to locate the nearest fire exit.

******

After walking for what seemed like an eternity she turned a corner sharply, jumping out of her skin when she collided with a large blue figure, immediately jumping back with her pulse pistols drawn defensively.

 **“LENA!”** Reinhardt’s voice boomed and immediately she let her pulse pistols drop to her sides as relief washed over her, the former crusader sweeping her into a bear hug, crushing her slightly before releasing her, Angela quickly by her side with a worried expression.

 **“Your chronal accelerator! What happened? Are you injured?”** Angela asked placing a gentle touch on the Brits cheek turning her head to look at her.

 **“Stray bullet. I’m fine Doctor Zielger, honestly”** Lena said with a tired smile.

 **“I’ll be the judge of that-“** Angela began before Reinhardt interrupted

 **“-Leave her be doctor. Thanks to her actions, we have some hostages to escort to safety now! You must share the story with us once we are finished here!”** his large hand slapped Lena hard on the back, staggering her easily. She was worn out physically and emotionally, a number of grazes littering her cheeks and legs but she couldn't give up yet. She smiled, a little embarrassed before glancing back where she had come from.

**“Actually, there’s something I need to do, you go on ahead I’ll-“**

**“-You’ll do no such thing!”** Angela was getting stern with her, caduceus staff in her grip “ **I need to examine you properly and we need to contact Winston about your chronal accelerator. The last thing we need is it becoming unstable.”**

**“But…I need to-“**

**“-Listen to the Doc. The hostages are safe, what more could you need to do? The Missions over, let’s not get caught with our beard in the letter box!”** Torbjörn was stood with his arms folded and a stern expression **“Unless…there’s something you’re not telling us Rookie?”** the very suggestion drew some rather unsettled and accusatory glances from Reinhardt and Angela too, Lena biting her lip before shaking her head.

 **“Marvellous, let’s move out!”** Reinhardt said, taking the helm and waving the hostage group over. **“Get behind me, I shall protect you with my shield!”** he said before leading the way. Torbjörn followed, keeping far away Mondatta and any other Omics within the hostage group, his rivet gun poised ready for a fight.

 **“Lena?”** Angela placed a hand on her shoulder to get her attention **“Are you sure everything is alright? You seem…distracted”** she tucked a few strands of blonde hair behind her ear, gently placing her staff on her back again. They were holding back from the group, the Doctor sensing something amiss with the rookie agent.

Tracer jumped slightly as Angela’s hand touched her shoulder, she had been looking for any sign of the gunslinger at the end of the hallway, hoping he would stroll into view with that cocky grin, gun at his side. Was everything alright, it most certainly wasn’t. Images of the hostages being shredded by Bastions still played in her mind, the stench of blood still in her nose, the coppery taste lingering at the back of her throat. She wanted to gag, she wanted to yell, she wanted to recall all the way back and stop those poor people being executed. **“I…”** Lena exhaled softly **“We couldn’t save them all.”** She saw the confusion in the doctors’ face and elaborated **“Bastions executed four hostages. We couldn’t do anything to help them, we just had to watch…”**

Angela nodded in understanding, gently holding Lena by the top of her arms, squeezing gently to reassure her and meeting her gaze. **“Sometimes events are unavoidable Lena. We cannot allow them to hold us back, we must continue forwards. Because of you the rest of the hostages are safe, they are alive. You should be proud of yourself, rescuing them alone and on your first mission? Jack will be thrilled with your progress. You are a hero Lena, wear the title with pride”** she said with a smile before looking to the departing group of hostages. **“We had best catch up. Come…”** she walked off, heel clicking gently against the floor.

Lena shota departing gaze to the hallway. She hadn’t achieved anything alone. **“I don’t feel like a Hero”** she muttered under her breath sadly before following the group towards the Power Station exit.


	9. MIA

_Authors Edit Note 19/04 : Some of you eagle eyed folk may notice a large section has been re-written at the beginning. This is because of a massive inconsistency that was driving me insane! I'd like to take the moment as well to thank everyone for reading my story, I hope you are enjoying it and I'll aim to have more parts out soon!_

* * *

  **"Hostages are secure and have been escorted outside the boundary of Kings Row Commander!"** Reinhardt was reporting in enthusiastically, looking towards the power station, his chest puffed out almost as though he were expecting some journalist to snap a photo of this proud moment. Off to the side Angela was running diagnostics on Tracers Chronal accelerator thanks to a separate communication channel with Winston back in Switzerland, the device still sparking occasionally and causing Angela to shy away fearful she had messed with something she shouldn't have, but the blue glow was now much more consistent which, according to Winston, was a good sign.

 **"Excellent work team. We have extraction on route to your position. Sit tight and enjoy the downtime"** Morrison signed off the comms and smiled at Ana in relief. Mission successful, a few lives lost but all in all a great effort.

 **"I must say I've not seen you smile like that for quite some time Jack"** Ana mused, gently tracing the rim of her tea cup **"If memory serves the last time you smiled like that was when Jesse replaced Gabriel's sidearm with that confetti replica"**

Jack laughed loudly at the memory, recalling a furious Reyes staring at a mess of colourful confetti that had erupted from the realistic sidearm replcement before chasing after the cackling cowboy much to the amusement of the new Blackwatch recruits. He ran a hand a hand through his hair **"Yeah, I don't think I've ever seen Gabe so angry. How he ever managed to convince Torbjorn to make such a device is beyond me..."** Ana laughed gently before a thought struck the strike commander. **"That reminds me, I should really get word to him about the ride out of Kings Row seeing as he's there already"** He turned back to the panel as Ana excused herself from the room to look over some paperwork. About to make contact he recalled that Lena was actually using the backend from McCrees comms, so the gunslinger was uncontactable directly, pressing a few buttons he chimed directly into Lena's comms instead.

 **“Oxton, good work today getting those hostages to safety. You’ve proven yourself today”** he leaned back in his chair, hands clasping together confidently **“One last thing as I can’t check myself. I take it you told McCree where the evacuation point was when he caught up with you earlier”** he asked.

Lena was sat on a wall, kicking her feet and staring down at the cobblestone pavement when Morrison contacted her privately. She sat up, her finger pressing to the device, her bottom lip chewed on heavily as she contemplated the best way to respond. **“Thank you, Commander”** she glanced around, ensuring nobody else was in ear shot **“Sir, we were separated inside the Power Station”** her voice was quiet, she could sense the tension on the line.

In Switzerland Jack wasn’t too bothered by the news **“I am not surprised. He’s technically not supposed to be there so I imagine he took off to avoid an ear bashing from Torbjörn. Never mind, if he wants a lift out he’ll see the drop ship”**

 **“Ah! Here’s our ride! Lena! Torbjörn ready up!”** Reinhardt bellowed as the transport rumbled above them.

Lena glanced to the transport before shaking her head frantically as she jumped off the wall **“No, Sir you don’t understand. McCree is still-“**

A small explosion sounded in the distance drawing everyone’s attention.

 **“What was that?”** Angela asked softly.

 **“Probably some Omnic. Good riddance I say”** Torbjörn said with a scowl **“Sooner we get out of there the better”** he muttered, the ship beginning to land, whipping up the air and dirt before the engines died down slightly. The door opened with a gentle woosh, Torbjörn making sure he was the first aboard, sitting down and folding his arms **“Get a move on!”** he bellowed.

 **“Athena is reporting high energy levels, looks like some of Null Sector are screwing around with some equipment.”** Morrison spoke across general comms, a silent instruction to get on the transport and leave as soon as possible hidden in the information.

 **“Come along Rookie!”** Reinhardt bellowed, stood on the ramp looking at the new agent with a wide smile as Angela boarded the transport, sitting across from Torbjörn and reading through her mission notes. Lena didn’t move, still looking around the courtyard for any sign of the gunslinger, chewing on her lip, her eyes glowing urgently.

 **“Tracer”** Reinhardt was right behind her, the large man unusually quiet despite his heavy armour. Lena spun on her feet to face him **“Come, we’re leaving now”** he said with a kind smile, gesturing a large hand towards the transport. She hesitated, taking a few steps ahead before a loud explosion erupted in the distance. Flames danced into the sky, licking above the skyline closely followed by a dark plume of smoke which twisted and danced away from the scene like a wraith.

The force of the blast shook the ground, Reinhardt acting quickly by popping his shield and preventing the debris that fell from the sky from hitting them. Electronic parts, rubble, rubber and even some Omnic pieces rained down with a clatter, the orange glow of the fire easy to see.

 **“Strike Team Report!”** Morrison called over the comms frantically, half stood from his chair with a worried expression etched on his brow.

 **“We’re fine commander, some sort of big explosion. Athena, can you perform some analysis?”** Angela spoke, peering out of the transport to check Reinhardt and Lena were ok. The pair were stood still, just staring at the fire and smoke rising in the distance. Athena confirmed and silently began working behind the scenes, analysing the area, damage and aquiring a number of images. It would take a couple of minutes so the strike team and commander sat in deafening silence.

******

 **“Initial Analysis complete. Large energy levels were recorded on the south side of the Power Station shortly before the explosion detonated. East London’s power supply is down, backup generators have been activated by automatic protocols. Satellite images have been sent to Commander Morrison for further information”** Athena provided her update, allowing Jack to inspect the recent images displayed on the main screen before him.

 **“The south side of the power station has been destroyed. Chances are the rest of the building is structurally unstable as well. Take the transport, our work is done. The rest is for the British Government to deal with”** Jack sat back down, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lena shook her head, her breathing speed increasing as she placed a hand on her chest. **“We can’t leave”** she muttered, Reinhardt trying to gentle her towards the transport. She yanked away **“No! We can’t leave”** she said, her eyes wide as she looked at her strike team, all three of them looking at her in a mixture of concern or irritation.

**“Lena, we have done all we can here. The hostages were saved, the power station only had Null Sector Omnics insi-“**

**“No! No, it didn’t!”** Lena snapped at Angela, pressing her finger to her comms. **“Commander, I was trying to tell you earlier! We were separated by an OR14 Unit and he distracted it so I could lead the hostages to safety”** she was breathing heavily, hanging her head and closing her eyes, relived to have spoken out.

Torbjörn scowled **“Who the hell are you yammerin’ about Rookie? It’s just been us here from the start!”** he snapped, arms folding.

Jack stood slowly, pressing to talk to the team. **“Lena.”** He said slowly, whetting his lips before continuing **“What are you trying to say? Do you know where he is?”** he asked

Lena swallowed shaking her head **“Sir, I’m pretty sure he was still inside”**

 **“I don’t follow! Who are we talking about and why do we care?”** Torbjörn demanded.

**“McCree. We’re talking about McCree”**

The Strike team looked to each other in silent alarm, Jack exhaled and stared at the satellite pictures on screen, the south side of the station nothing but a heap of rubble and broken parts.

 **“What has McCree done now?”** Reyes asked as he stepped into the room, smirking at Morrison before seeing the Commanders solemn face and unfolding his arms. **“Fuck, what’s he done? Where is he? Morrison?”** he asked dark eyes widening as Jack shook his head.

 **“I’m sorry Gabe”** He looked back to the image on screen, Gabriel’s gaze following suit **“We don’t know for certain where he is”** he could see the anger and hurt building in Gabe’s eyes, his body tensing, hands balling into fists at his sides as he tried to process the information.

*******

Jesse panted painfully as he jogged down the dim power station hallway, his spurs jingling and his right arm wrapped around his chest, he could hear the OR14 trundling along behind him. Spotting a door slightly ajar he ducked into the room, pausing at the number of generators and complicated machinery that no doubt gave London some of its power. He winced, glancing back before heading further into the room, plastering his back against one of the machines when he heard the OR14 knock the door off its hinges trying to enter the room to look for him. Sweat had soaked his shirt, his right shoulder now a dull ache and beads of sweat running down his face. He tried to catch his breath quietly, every inhale protested by a spike of pain across his rib cage. At his side, he gripped his trusty peacekeeper, the laser sight pointed at the floor to avoid giving away his position, finger twitching on the trigger as he heard the clunking footsteps of the Omnic beginning its search. It was approaching on his left, Jesse slowly stepping right keeping his back against the machine before he darted across the gap to hide behind another generator just as the OR14 peered around the corner, red eyes glowing menacingly.

 **“Negative. Res-resuming s-search”** it stuttered, limbs jerking awkwardly before it continued to walk away from the cowboy. McCree breathed out slowly, peering around the corner to double check the coast was clear. He took a few silent strides towards the door freezing mid step as a null trooper walked in, it’s back to him for now. He swallowed, whetting his lips and carefully placing one foot back, then the other repeatedly, eyes fixed on the Omnic.

 **“S-stop right th-there-there!”** the garbled OR14 voice startled McCree but not as much as the feeling of the graviton charge dragging him backwards violently. His back slammed up against the wall before he was released, slumping forwards onto all fours with a grunt, coughing and wheezing as a result of the air being knocked from his lungs. The approaching OR14 and Null Trooper forced him to struggle to his feet, gun aiming at the Null Trooper first and firing at it three times, watching every bullet send the Omnic reeling backwards with a robotic yell. The graviton orb was fired again, McCree trying to get out of range before It detonated.

Again, he felt it’s hold, the orb yanking him side wards this time. His body slammed into one of the generators with a loud bang, the Blackwatch agent feeling his head bounce off the metal, his hat dislodging from his head and fluttering to the ground as he stumbled out of the attack seeing stars and well aware of the warm blood now trickling down the side of his face. **“Give me a fuckin’ break”** he muttered forcing himself into an uneasy run, sliding around the corner of the generator, eager to put as many obstacles between himself and the Omic as he could. He fired back a few more shots, right hand fumbling to find another speed loader only for a bitter curse to escape his lips when he found to be out already. Two bullets. He had two bullets left in close quarters combat with two Omnics. He was catching his breath, now on the other end of the room listening for the Omnics approaching, the buttons for the generator pressing into the base of his spine slightly, a strange reassurance that nothing was going to grab him from behind. He ran a hand through his hair, wiping the back of his neck breathing slowly to calm his heart beat. It was then he saw the large purple orb tucked in the corner of the room, large metal plating covering a complex series of circuits and wires, a gentle orange glow radiating between the cracks like lava. A detonator? Or as Reyes once described it _'A fucking nasty bomb with a blast radius the size of a small village.'_ Being so close to one unsettled him greatly and as he heard two sets of Omnics noises on his left he decided now would be the best time to dart for the exit.

He skidded out into the aisle, bouncing off the side way and hightailing it towards the door, spurs jangling madly, hair whipped back from his face, his shoulder and ribs protesting every movement of his arms pumping at his sides. It felt like a horrible dream, where the door at the end of the hall never gets closer, of course in this instance it was, but it was bizzare that such a distance could feel like double the length of a football pitch. He could hear the Omnics behind him barking orders, commanding him to stop but he continued, blood pounding in his ears as he closed the distance, escape so close.

He didn’t hear the Omnic announce the charge of it’s primary weapon, nor did he hear it announce the firing sequence. So focused on his escape the first time he was aware of the bullets was after they had trailed up the hallway after him, blasting him in the back. Pain exploded through his lower back as the bullets tore through his skin and muscle, others bouncing off his chest plate thankfully, but the sudden explosion of senses, pain and shock sent him to the floor with a cried yell. He rested his forehead against the cold floor, tensing in pain, feeling warm blood rapidly soaking his back, running down his sides as it pooled. He grunted, lifting his head seeing how close he was to the door and trying to crawl the distance. Gloved hands slapped against the floor, tugging him forward while his feet feebly scuffed at the ground to push him closer. He was soon exhausted, abandoning his attempt, lying on his front gasping through the pain, his left hand balled into a fist pressing into the ground. So close, so goddam close.

Clunky footsteps, the OR and Null Sector Omnic approached him, almost deliberately drawing out the inevitable, their shadows looming over him. McCree struggled to roll over, the pain of the bullets lodged in his back jostling about causing him to let out an animalistic growl. Two bullets. He shakily raised his gun firing once, the Null Trooper dropping remarkably easily as the bullet tore through its head, the OR glancing to the metal corpse in silence. Jesse was leaning on his elbows, keeping his back arched off the floor, sweat glistening on his forehead, his complexion growing paler by the minute as blood dripped down his back. He shifted slightly, gasping in pain the noise drawing the OR14’s gaze onto him with a bleep, the gun raising to level with his head.

 **“You w-will…You will be e-el-eliminated”** the OR struggled through the phrase, its head jerking, eyes flickering. It was damaged, but not enough for a single bullet to finish it off. With a slow exhale Jesse began to lift his gaze to meet that of his executioner.

 **“I’d ask ya- to make it quick but I- don’t reckon’ you’ll listen’”** his words breathless, the tired smile still not fading from his lips as he winced.

 **“S-silence…h…hu….huma…humanoid”** The gun was so close that as it began to charge he could feel the heat on his face, the red glow reflecting in his eyes before drew a slow breath, his steely gaze meeting the soulless eyes of the Omnic. 3….2…..1….

Clunk!

The noise drew a surprised look from the cowboy, the OR trying again with the same result. No bullets, no pain, nothing at all. The cowboy exhaled with a wide grin, not believing his luck. **“Havin’ problems keepin’ it up?”** he teased.

**“Error! Primary weapon malfunction. Execution protocol cannot be complete”**

Music to his ears, Jesse allowed mild relief to wash over him. A disarmed Omnic was no threat, so what was it going to do to stop him from leaving? He shifted his body, preparing physically and mentally to get to his feet, bracing himself for the pain. He actions were clumsy, feet slipping as he stood, pain forcing him side wards into the wall where his bloodied hand left prints as he stabilised himself and slowly began to edge his way towards the door. Never before had he sought the warm glow of Mercy’s caduceus staff so much, the very idea actually driving him forward. Well that, and maybe a stiff drink.

******

 **“Error! Error! Initiating alternate execution programme”** The OR spoke suddenly, the words causing Jesse to turn around wide eyed only for the front two legs of the OR14 to kick him in the chest, knocking him to the floor again and causing him to writhe in pain, blood smearing as he slid across the floor a little.

 **“The…fuck?”** he ground his teeth together, the OR approaching again. Alternate programme? It reared up on its hind legs and immediately McCree knew what it was planning to do. **“Holy-“** he didn’t finish, didn’t have time to react as the legs slammed down hard on his left arm, bones snapping violently beneath the OR14 weight drawing a pained yell from him before it pulled back allowing him to roll over and cradle his mangled arm against his chest, his breathing frantic, panicked as adrenaline coursed through his body. He was going to die trampled beneath the hooves of an OR14 Unit, not a bullet. Where was the honour in that?

Seemed the Omnic still had other plans for him, its cold robotic hand jerking down and grabbing him around the neck, yanking him to his feet violently. The noise of pain that tried to escape him was cut off as the Omnic squeezed its fingers into his oesophagus, cutting off his wind pipe. His boots were barely touching the floor, his left arm hanging by his side, his right hand immediately moving to try and pry the hand away from his neck. **“St-op…”** he gasped, feeling the grip tighten further, feet feebly kicking against the floor, just the tips of his boots scuffing the ground. His lungs were on fire, his vision blurring, dark tendrils swarming the edges of his vision, just those four Omnic eyes on that emotionless face before him. Was this better? Felt like torture.

 **“N-Null Se-sec-t-tor will be obeyed, Omnics will- will- obeyed-be obeyed”** its eyes flickered, power failing, processing corrupting. It wouldn’t last long, not that it was much comfort to the cowboy whose lips were starting to turn blue, eyes wetting before his hazel hues spotted the blurred image of the detonator at the back of the room. One bullet. One chance.

He let his right-hand fall from the robotic hand clamped around his neck, subtly removing his gun from his holster and shakily raising it. The gun quivered madly in his weaker hand, his lungs screaming for air before he pulled the trigger, bullet whizzing past and colliding directly with the weaker part of the detonator. His gun dropped from his hand to bounce off the floor once, the OR turning with a confused yell before the detonator detonated.

Bright light engulfed his vision, he felt hot air rush past his body before a shockwave erupted through the building, flames leaping up through the ceiling, a few generators quickly following suit intensifying the explosion. The grip around his throat released, a sensation of weightlessness befalling him before darkness swarmed his vision, the loud booming of the explosion tearing through the south section of the power station being the last thing he heard.

 


	10. Brothers in Arms

**“You had no right to give him orders!”** Reyes barked the words furiously at Morrison from across the table, his hands balled into fists pressing against the surface.

 **“I wasn’t to know what would happen, he was already heading in anyway.”** Jack spoke with a serious tone; a stern look on his face as he tried to think of a way to calm down the Blackwatch commander and his long-term friend.

Reyes rubbed at his eyes angrily **“Of course it’s fine when you want to utilise Blackwatch assets for your own gain? I see how it works now Commander”** the words were spat at Jack with such venom before Reyes scratched the back of his neck and scowled.

**“That’s not how it works Gabe-“**

**“-Don’t give me your bullshit. I know your priorities, you’ve always sneered down on Blackwatch. We’re nothing but something you scrape off the bottom of your shoe, something you tuck away in the closet until you need something”** he leaned forward, tapping furiously with his index finger on the table. **“I’m telling you now Jack, if anything has happened to him…”** The silent threat hung in the air, Jack frowning at his friend about to retort when the door opened and Ana entered, her gaze shifting between the two men suspiciously.

 **“Now is not the time for arguments. We cannot allow this to divide us, we must work together”** she said putting some papers down on the table and spreading them across the desk gently. **“Now then, I’ve spoken with Winston about using Athena to track down Jesse’s last known location. The last known signal definitely places him somewhere in the south section of the power station at the time of the blast, but an exact location cannot be pin pointed because of the technical issues”** She saw Gabe grind his teeth in her peripheral vision, his hands gripping the edge of the table angrily.  She knew the man was concerned, the pair had gone on numerous missions together since he picked up the former Deadlock gang member all those years ago. Right now, they needed to focus on the rescue mission at hand, that is, if it was a rescue and not a body retrieval. She took a slow breath at the thought and got back to the papers before her.

 **“Jack, have you spoken with the Strike team?”** She asked, glancing to the Overwatch Commander, the blonde male snapping to attention and folding his arms with a nod.

**“They’ve set up a perimeter around the south section of the powerplant to stop anyone getting in. I’ve spoken to the British Government about the situation, for obvious reasons I have avoided mentioning Blackwatch involvement. They’ve refused us rescue services but allowed us to scout the area ourselves”**

**“Refused? How can they refuse emergency services?”** Reyes growled.

 **“The explosion knocked out some of the automatic power protocols fail so the emergency services are currently dealing with the general public. They can’t spare the resources. It gives us unrestricted access to the site however which is a good thing”** Jack spoke without looking up from the papers.

 **“Bullshit. Fucking government.”** Reyes folded his arms bitterly, scratching the side of his face briefly before letting Ana continue.

**“We are arranging another transport to assist Oxton and Doctor Ziegler in their search. Winston has agreed to provide support from here and I will remain here to assist him, but if either of you wanted to-“**

**“-I’ll go.”** Gabe spoke suddenly, brown hues darting up from the desk to meet Morrison’s before he scowled **“Can’t have you soiling your hands with Blackwatch can we Strike Commander?”** Reyes spat before shaking his head and turning away from the table.

 **“Reyes!”** Jack snapped, scowling as the Blackwatch commander slammed the door as he left, drawing a sigh from the Overwatch commander as he ran a hand through his hair.

 **“Don’t take it personally Jack”** Ana spoke softly, looking over the papers and gently shuffling them back into a pile. **“Gabriel has always held McCree in high regard. Uncertainty in these circumstances, especially when it’s about someone you care about, can hurt more than anything.”** She picked up her papers, holding them securely against her chest. **“Blackwatch or not, you can’t deny that McCree has always been a part of our Overwatch family. He’s assisted on a number of missions, and trying to distance yourself from the situation may be a good short term solution but it makes you cold Jack”**

 **“I’m not distancing myself from the situation…”** Jack responded sternly, before looking confused as Ana chuckled at him.

**“You keep telling yourself that, but just think. What if it were myself or Angela in this situation? What if it were Lena?”**

**“That’s different-“**

**“Is it really Jack? Or are you more afraid of showing concern for a division you know very little about?”**

Jack looked down with a sigh, nodding. **“You’re right”** he rubbed his jaw line, stubble gently scratching his hand **“Dammit, you always know what to say. Thank you, Ana,”** he smiled the captain gently.

Ana shook her head **“I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know.”** She looked to the door “I need to assist Winston, keep me updated on the situation”

 **“I will”** Jack said, watching Ana leave the room before frowning in determination and accessing the communications channel to arrange the transports.

******

Among the settling rubble, the flash of blue light from the chronal accelerator cast an eerie glow as the form of Lena Oxton blinked amongst the debris, dust having quickly settled in her hair and across face. There was a look of worry and alarm etched on her young features as she tripped and managed to regain her balance seconds before she would have scuffed her knees. Brown hues glancing back and staring at the mangled Omnic corpse that she had tripped over.

 **“Lena”** Winston’s voice echoed over her comms, the Brit placing a finger to her ear and drawing a few slow breaths **“Lena please keep in contact, it isn’t safe there and the repairs to your Chronal Accelerator the repairs are only temporary until you can return it to me for further analysis”**

 **“I know Winston. It's Just…”** her voice wavered slightly as her brown hues scanned around the site, smoke from fires still rising into the sky, the odd rumble of rocks displacing themselves and the creak of iron garters that had once held the building in place straining as heat and pressure began to mangle them.

**“I know Lena, don’t worry. Angela is on-route to your position now“**

**“I will be with you shortly Lena”** The Swiss voice of Doctor Ziegler cut into the line gently, a gentle hum of the transport vehicle in the background. Angela had assisted with setting up the perimeter and was fetching some additional medical supplies from the transport. Somehow knowing the doctor was on her way eased the nerves nipping at the Brits heels. Biting her lip, she nodded and wiped dust from her visor, peering around the rather desolate landscape.

 **“Winston, any idea what could have-?”** she trailed off as she blinked across another gap, her footsteps gentle, her senses alert, skin tingling at the slightest noise or wind change.

**“Athena is still running analysis on the heat signature. Early indications show it resonated from one of the generator rooms. Maybe an overload, but I won’t know for certain for a few hours. Doctor Ziegler, do you have everything you need?”**

**“Yes Winston, I will be arriving at the site in precisely two minutes.”**

Lena hopped up onto what she imagined had been once been part of the second floor, wincing as water dripped from busted pipes onto her face, leaving trails in the dust. As she wiped the water from her cheek the floor beneath her shook, jerking downwards and throwing her off balance with a yelp. Her hands flew out behind her as she attempted to stop herself sliding down the debris, feet scrabbling frantically before she hit the bottom and rolled off, laying on her front with a wince, her comms crackling frantically.

Drawing in a breath she placed her hand to the ear piece **“I’m fine. Just took a little tumble.”** She breathed, before shaking her head at the distorted response. **“I can’t hear you love. Let me just-“** her eyes widened as she spotted an object amongst the rubble, the young woman half falling as she scrambled to her feet and towards the object, blinking to get there faster before falling to her knees before it, delicate hands grasping at the object and tugging it loose brushing debris and dust from the fabric.

Her heart fell, stomach lurching as a chill washed over her whole body, her hands gripping a dusty, tattered cowboy hat. The Blackwatch logo struggling to glint beneath the dirt and blood spatters. Heat rushed to her cheeks, her eyes lining with tears quickly as she shook her head in disbelief. “No…no no no” every breath was short and sharp, panic and upset swirling inside her. She jumped to her feet, scanning the area frantically. **“Please.”** she pleaded softly, her grip tightening on the hats rim. **“McCree!”** she bellowed, her voice reverberating off the walls, meeting only the distant crackle of flames and scuffle of shifting rocks. **“Jesse!”** she called again, catching a sob that escaped her lips. A golf ball sized lump had formed in her throat, and every attempt to swallow it made it worse, her eyes were filling with water it made her vision blur, the heat forming causing her visor to fog up slightly.

Tugging the visor down she angrily rubbed at her eyes and looked down to the tatty cowboy hat that rested in her hands, the normally callous fabric unusually soft between her fingers. Her eyes closed gently as she took a moment to reflect and regather her thoughts. Loosing someone was always hard, but during her first mission. Maybe if she had acted differently things would have turned out better?

 **“Lena?”** The gentle voice of Angela grabbed the Brits attention, the blonde doctor gently gliding down, like an angel, in her Valkyrie suit to meet her **“Are you ok? Winston said couldn’t get you on the comms and -“** her blue eyes settled on the cowboy hat gripped between the girls hands and the tearful look in her eyes. Silence fell between the pair as the realisation dawned on them both. A hat without its owner was not often good omen.

Finally, Angela made a move. Approaching slowly and gently grasping Tracer by her shoulders. **“Regardless of the outcome, we will do our best to bring him home”** she assured her, tugging the Brit into a gentle hug. The pair broke apart and soon began to sift through debris, false hope raised and shattered as they failed to find any sign of the gunslinger.

*******

Over two hours ticked by and Lena was looking more and more exhausted, her hair limp with sweat and coated in dust, her eyes tired and even her chronal accelerator looked less bright than when they had begun to search. As her coms bleeped again in her ear, Angela turned her gaze to the setting sun, biting her lip before exhaling softly, lips parting to speak only for Lena to cut her off angrily.

 **“I know what you’re going to say and I don’t care.”** Lena spoke sternly, hauling aside another piece of debris, her hands rough and calloused from the lifting, small cuts and scratches leaving speckles of blood on her skin.

 **“Winston has been trying to get in contact for over 30 minutes now, it is too dangerous for us to stay any longer. The area is unstable and Jack can’t keep authorities away forever.”** She watched the Brit struggle to lift more debris before giving up, sitting heavily on the floor, her small frame looking fragile, a look of hopelessness in her eyes.

 **“Overwatch has been like a family to me. A big, crazy family I know have my back when it counts.”** She ran a hand through her hair, meeting the gaze of the doctor gently **“Jesse is family, Blackwatch or not. You don’t leave family behind”** she pushed herself back to her feet with renewed vigour, eyes shining in fierce determination. **“You can go if you want, but I’m staying here”** the blue light on her chest illuminated her face in the dying sunlight.

Angela gently clasped her hands together. As much as she knew others would disagree Lena had a point. Jesse was family, his southern drawl and crooked smile always lit up the meetings while his unusual use of idioms and rebellious nature constantly kept them on their toes. **“I understand. I’ll head back to give Jack an update, then I will come back and help you search some more.”** She saw Tracer narrow her gaze and elaborated **“If we’re going to search we’ll need some lights, it’s dark enough here let alone further down or even after nightfall”** the Brit smiled and nodded in agreement, and with that Angela turned and began to make her way up to the surface and back to where a very anxious Jack stood.

 **“Angela!”** The Strike Commander turned and jogged over to the tired looking medic, concern in his eyes despite the serious expression etched on his features. **“Where’s Lena? Have you had any luck with-“** the shake of the blonde medics head made him stop talking, rubbing the back of his neck. **“Gabriel is on the war path. I didn’t want him dony anything rash so I had the transport leave early.”** Jack murmured after a long silence. From what he had heard the Blackwatch commander had been on the next transport to the site within minutes of him finding out what Jack had done. **“We’re keeping authorities away for as long as we can, but a power station going up out of the blue like that? What the hell happened?”** A rumble of another transport drew his and Angela’s attention, the large ship dropping off a rather furious Gabriel Reyes and-

 **“Genji?!”** Angela stared at the male, darting forward **“You shouldn’t be here, your suit and modifications are still in testing, they’re not stable”** She stopped him passing her, hands placing on his chest, concern in her blue eyes.

Genji met her gaze, red eyes glowing between the slot on his helmet. **“I am aware of the risks Doctor Ziegler, but I was made aware of the situation and wish to provide my services”** he folded his arms across his chest, hair and unconnected wires on his suit swaying in the breeze slightly. **“McCree spared my life in Hanamura and I seek to return the favour by assisting with the search”** his voice gentled by the synthetic robot undertone made Angela exhale and rub at her forehead.

 **“Genji, your suit isn’t even completed, your modifications are not fully tested”** she said, gesturing to his left side where scarred skin and tubes poked out of his skin, a stark contrast to the silver and red metallic overlay of his right side.

 **“Winston provided his opinion before I boarded the transport. Providing I am tactful with my actions then my assistance in locating McCree has been permitted.”** He glanced towards the distance, spotting a flash of blue as Tracer blinked about the explosion site. **“I am going to assist Lena now”** he stepped around his doctor, Angela grabbing his arm to stop him.

 **“Genji”** she paused as the cyborg looked to her **“Be careful”** she instructed, releasing her grip, hands clasping together in front of her.

 **“Of course Doctor Ziegler”** he responded before taking off at a run towards Lena, gentle red accents of his suit fading into the distance. Judging by the red and blue lights colliding Lena was more than thrilled to see the cyborg and have his assistance. Angela sighed gently, turning back to see Gabriel angrily confronting Jack about the transport leaving without him. She shook her head sadly, heading towards one of the transports and gathering some more medical supplies in addition to the lights she had promised Lena.

*****

Tracer continued her search, fortunate for the light of her Chronal Accelerator to guide her way. Searching was going to take forever, and she was too far from the surface to make proper contact with Winston for help. She needed to act smart, shrink her search area somehow. Her hand pressed against the piece in her ear **“Hey Athena”** she waited, breathing a sigh of relief when the gentle robotic voice answered her.

**“Good afternoon Agent Oxton, how might I assist you?”**

**“Could you try tracking Jesse’s communication device again for me please?”** the Brit rocked on her heels slightly, awaiting a response.

**“I’m sorry, I am still unable to track Agent McCrees device efficiently. The connection has been terminated, most likely caused by damage to the device.”**

Lena sucked in a breath between her teeth, It was a stab in the dark anyway, her hands falling back to her sides. **“That’s alright luv, cheers anyway”** she took a few steps forward ready to begin her search again.

**“I am able to triangulate a search area based on Agent McCrees possible positions in relation to the detonation if that would assist your search?”**

Lena felt her hear leap **“Yes! That would be brilliant!”**

 **“Activating. Acquiring co-ordinates, analysing potential routes”** Lena stood nervously, fishing a flat device from her pocket and waiting for the screen to show the data she wanted. **“Triangulating probable search area…transferring data”** the screen illuminated and Tracer took a breath at the surprisingly small search area that was located just to the North East of her. It was a start and with a grin she blinked off towards the area on the map, ready to continue her search, only pausing when she heard another set of footsteps and looking round to see Genji leaping over the rubble to join her, a smile tugging at her lips, grateful for the assistance.

******

The cowboy awoke with a groggy head and a throat drier than the Sahara. Slowly smacking his lips together his face screwed up as a load of dust fill his mouth, causing him to cough and groan painfully. His whole body ached, he could feel debris crushing his chest and was aware of a fire burning somewhere nearby, the soft crackle of the flames and the gentle heat on one side of him was a big giveaway, but right now the fire was far enough to not be a problem. He needed to focus, work out exactly where he was. Brown hues finally opened, blinking through the dust and pebbles that had accumulated on his face and squinting through the dark, barely able to make out much more than rubble and the odd Omnic corpse. So, the place had gone up after all. He exhaled, only spluttering as dust invaded his windpipe on both the inhale and exhale, pain shuddering through his muscles. Mercy had told him a number of things to do if someone was injured, did they apply if he was the injured one? Gritting his teeth, he slowly lifted his head to get a better look at his surroundings and only found himself resting it back against the rocks none the wiser and twice as exhausted. He let his eyes rest for a moment, gathering his thoughts and what little strength he had left.

First step, check he was still in one piece. He grunted, slowly shifting his left foot, then his right feeling his boots move and dislodge some dust and dirt. Now for his arms. He craned his gaze to his right hand, seeing his fingers wiggle weakly on command before rolling his head to his left scowling at the sight of his arm pinned beneath a heap of concrete. Panic spiked at him briefly before he winced and forced himself to stay calm. He couldn’t see the movement, didn’t mean he couldn’t feel movement. He shifted his arm slightly, pins and needles prickling through the limb followed by a sharp pain, but he soon felt slight movement in his left hand. Fingers felt three times the size having been pinned for so long but he could still feel the rough rubble beneath his hand. He was fine, all limbs accounted for, now he just needed to get himself up and out of wherever here was.

He took the time to try and clear the debris from his chest, every movement slow and protested by muscles. Occasionally the ceiling above him would rumble, showering him with more debris and adding to his gasping breaths. Dust was invading his nose and throat, burning his eyes and scratching his lungs, constricting them slightly. That, coupled with the fact he was certain there were at least another two fractured ribs beneath his breastplate in addition to the ones he received earlier, just added to his list of troubles.

 **“Alright…”** He wheezed, a sweat forming across his brow from the exertion. He wiggled his left hand again, fat fingers still responding beneath the concrete much to his relief. He needed to better assess the situation, and with the weight somewhat lifted from his chest he could try and turn towards his left and tug his arm free.

The moment he attempted to roll a searing pain tore through his left side and his back, a cry of pain escaping his gritted teeth and forcing him to abandon the attempt. Panting heavily, his right hand frantically patted the spot around his abdomen, pulling away soaked in deep crimson. He winced, tilting his head back with a grimace **“Well shit…”** He rasped before slowly craning his neck to look at the damage.

A large metal pole, most likely part of the building supports that had been blasted loose, was unfortunately jutting out from his side, slightly mangled and blood soaked. The debris that had weighed down his body had been providing pressure and preventing vast volumes of blood from escaping the wound. Now as a result of his movement and with natural adrenaline starting to wear off, it was going to become a big problem. He tugged his glove off his right hand with his teeth before allowing his fingers to clasp around the metal, struggling to get a firm grip with his blood coating it. Like a band aid he planned to pull it free, quick and simple. He tugged, pain tearing through his side once more, burning and causing his vision to spot as unconsciousness threatened to wash over him. A yell of agony had tried to escape him, but his throat was so dry nothing passed his lips apart from gasps of pain. He abandoned the attempt, resting his blood-stained hand on his chest and taking some slower breaths. If he couldn’t free his body, then his arm would have to be freed to help himself better. Determination glinted in his eyes as he placed his right hand against the rubble by his left arm. He clamped his jaw together to try and take his mind off the pain before he began to tug his left arm.

The pain in his side and the force exerted on his already mangled left arm was making his head spin, but as he saw his arm slowly beginning to slide free he couldn’t help but smile slightly despite the odds. More, and more his arm began to slide free. He had nearly gotten his elbow free when a loud rumble caused the room to shake. Rocks shifted, more boulders and dust raining down on him. Out of instinct to protect himself from further injury, he yanked his right hand away to cover his head. The gathering of concrete above his left arm shifting suddenly before it toppled like a Jenga tower, large pieces of concrete and jagged pieces of metal and glass scattering all over the cowboy. He felt white hot pain explode through his left arm and abdomen before the world faded away and unconsciousness washed over him once more.

******

 **“I’m telling you I heard something”** Tracer was peering down a narrow gap, struggling to see much beside rubble. Genji had been assisting with the search, stopping when Lena claimed to have heard a noise below them. Out on the scene the cyborg was rather glad to assist in the search especially if it allowed him escape the argument that had erupted between the Blackwatch and Overwatch commanders that no doubt erupted on their arrival.

The cyborg flexed his fingers at his side before crouching beside Lena and peering down the hole as well **“I can’t say I see or hear anything. Maybe we should await backup?”** the cyborg he felt the ground shift again beneath his feet and carefully stepped aside while Tracer steadied herself by placing her hand on the floor, staying crouched by the gap.

 **“If there’s someone down there and we wait for backup it could be too late Genji.”** She tapped a finger against her lip before frowning and placing her legs into the hole **“Only one way to find out, right?”** she announced, lifting her head up with a look of determination on her features.

Genji folded his arms, his surprise somewhat hidden by the mask that adorned his scarred features. He wasn’t about to let Tracer go alone and with a soft sigh stepped forward, his suit hissing briefly as a few of the circular ports popped up on his right side. **“Then we had best investigate before Doctor Ziegler catches up with us. We should tread carefully however, this area is unstable”** The Brit didn’t need telling twice and was disappearing down the hole before Genji could take another breath, the ninja swiftly following her blue glow with his own red illumination.

 **“Well one things for sure, we don’t need torches”** Lena’s attempt at remaining optimistic fell flat as Genji joined her in what could only be described as a small cavern. Between them their lights provided enough to see around the room, battered generators, mangled Omnics and shattered glass. **“Let’s look around”** she moved off cautiously, Genji nodding and heading to the other side, their lights casting eerie shadows on the walls, the occasional rumble of the debris overhead unnerving them both. Buried alive, beneath rubble was a horrible way to go but to be alive below all this? The Cyborg shook his head, peering into another air pocket and letting an exhale escape him as another Omnic corpse greeted him before his name was loudly barked behind him.

 **“Genji!”** Tracer called out loudly, the room shaking briefly before she clamped her hands over her mouth and blinked back to the main room, urgently waving the cyborg to follow before blinking out of sight. Had she found him? The Cyborg was quick to follow.

 **“McCree? McCree Wake up”** Lena was crouched over the dusty form of the cowboy when Genji ducked into the alcove. Covered in dust, dirt and debris it was amazing how Lena had even spotted the cowboy. He looked like part of the scenery. Heck, left any longer and he may well have been.

McCree opened his brown hues slowly, the world blurring into focus. A face illuminated by a gentle blue glow filled his vision, delicate features shadowed heavily by the Chronal Accelerator’s light but nothing could mistake that smile on her lips. Swallowing once, his cracked lips parted **“Hey Darlin’ ”** was all he could rasp, eyes resting again as he focused on every breath, trying to ignore how each inhale felt like razors were scratching his throat and lungs.

Lena exhaled in sweet relief when Jesse opened his eyes and rasped a few words in that southern drawl they’d all come to love. She could see the pain he was in, the dry blood that covered the side of his head, his right hand and scratches that littered his face beneath the dust. She dared not to think what lie beneath the flesh wounds but he was in one piece and alive against all odds. When the cowboy tried to lift his head, she placed a hand out to stop him gently “ **Don’t worry luv’ Cavalry’s’ here”** she smiled and looked to Genji who had now crouched beside her. **“Help me get this rubble off him”** she urged, before prying the larger rocks away with the cyborgs help. They worked together, attempting to shift the cowboy up, stopping as soon as a yell of pain escaped his lips, both their eyes scanning his body frantically looking for the cause, Lena’s hands clasping together.

Genji brushed away some more rubble to show the metal pole that had skewered the cowboys side before he frowned, nudged the Brit aside and gently touched McCree’s left arm, giving it a test tug and ceasing as Jesse let out a whimper of pain. There was already a lot of blood pooling beneath the Blackwatch agent, and after wiping away some of the dust from McCrees face he didn’t like the pale grey colour that was washing over his skin. **“We should speak with Angela. Keep him awake, I will go and make contact”** the cyborg stepped away, activating his coms and waiting for the familiar Swiss voice to grace the end of the line.

 **“Genji? Please tell me you have some news”** the Blonde doctor had jumped to her feet so suddenly she nearly lost balance. Blue hues glistened as she let the cyborg explain the situation, her hand going to her lips, and her eyes drifting towards the two Strike Commanders who were angrily yelling at each other in the distance. **“Ok, I need you to do a few things for me before I can make a proper diagnosis”**

McCree was struggling to focus on Lena’s voice, three times she had gently tapped his face to wake him, the cowboy mumbling something along the lines of an apology followed by the occasional murmured indistinct complaint regarding the pain he was in. He tried to remember, to show interest in the world around him but he was just so tired he wanted to rest. His body was starting grow colder, evident by the gentle shiver that began to creep across his skin but the warmth of the blood coating his side and back was strangely satisfying. It meant he was alive, much like the weak thump of his heart and the rattling of his breaths also told him he was still kicking. Genji’s presence had gone unnoticed initially and when the cyborg returned to instruct a number of different tests McCree found himself surprised. His heartbeat was monitored a number of times, his approximate temperature taken, and some ambiguous questioning about how he felt was met with a rather delusional answer before the Cyborg left to speak to Angela again.

 **“Don’t know…about you, but I…sure could use…a stiff drink…after this”** the cowboy murmured, his lids heavy, a gentle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The Brit looked so concerned and barely raised a smile, instead staying silent beside him, hugging her knees **“Yer’ killin’ me here darlin.”** he saw the look of alarm in the girls features and weakly waved his right hand to dismiss the comment **“Figure o’ speech.”** He grimaced letting his gaze shift to the ceiling his consciousness drifting away again. Sleep couldn’t hurt, just a few more minutes, his lids closed, head lulling to the side.

 **“Genji”** the doctor spoke softly, gently biting her nail as she spoke into her comms, pausing nervously **“There is only one real course of action I can suggest.”** She closed her eyes, taking a breath before explaining in detail what needed to be done.

Genji stiffened, glancing back over his shoulder to McCree and Tracer, grateful his mask shadowed the look of concern etched on his face. **“Doctor Ziegler, are you sure this is best course of action?”** No question, this was the only way. The Cyborg nodded at her words. **“I understand, be ready for extraction.”** His hand dropped from his ear, gaze settling McCree and Tracer for a moment before he slowly entered the alcove again, hand reaching for his sword and drawing it slowly.

The sound of a weapon being drawn grabbed Tracers attention instantly, the girl glancing up in alarm and blinking forwards, hands placing against the Cyborgs chest and a stern look on her face. **“What are you doing?”** she demanded, looking at the sword accusingly.

Genji paused, the sword at his side, his gentle synthetic voice calm as he began to try and explain. **“I am doing what must be done. We are unable to assist him while his arm remains trapped nor do we possess the tools to free him”** he said, seeing Lena shake her head frantically.

 **“There has to be another way. We can wait for backup, Mercy can-“** the Cyborg was shaking his head slowly and glancing to the sword **“I won’t let you!”** Lena argued with a frown, grateful the cowboy was out cold behind her.

 **“You would prevent me from saving his life?”** Genji took a step forward, the Brit stepping back slightly but still remaining firmly in his way.

 **“This is saving his life?!”** she snapped, a pink hue rising to her cheeks before the Cyborg gestured past her.

 **“We do nothing, or wait much longer and he will die.You would wish that?”** he spoke sternly, his patience wearing thin.

 **“No! I just- It can’t be the only option.”** Her head hung in defeat before she looked to the cowboy sadly **“It’s not fair.”** she said, biting her lip, the Cyborg placing a hand on her shoulder.

 **“We must believe in him. I cannot do this alone. Lena, will you assist me?”** Genji asked before approaching McCree when Tracer agreed and followed him, the pair crouching down either side of the cowboy, sword rested on the floor for now.

 **“We must secure the area or he will bleed out before we can get him to Angela. We also required a way to pad the wound here”** he said with a gesture to the wound on the cowboys side.

Tracer nodded and glanced around for anything they could use as a torque her gaze settling on the dusty belt buckle that adorned McCrees waist. She bit down on her lip and slowly unbuckled it, sliding it free from his trousers and handing it to Genji who secured the belt just above the elbow. As for padding his other wound the cowboy had nothing else they could access easily, Tracers outfit was not absorbent enough and Genji, well clothes weren’t an option for a Cyborg. The pair sat in thoughtful silent before Lena reached up to her hat, plucking it free and setting about unpicking the seams to fold out the cloth. The pair set about clearing the area of debris in silence, the cowboy remaining out cold, seemingly at ease despite what was about to occur. The plan was simple, cut through the arm, and carry McCree out to Mercy who was waiting topside ready to administer emergency medical care.

Tracer knelt beside the cowboy, watching silently as Genji raised the sword above the arm, the blade glinting briefly in the low light. It was then McCree slowly opened his eyes, spotting the blade raised above him, his mind not recognising the danger. **“Hey…whaddya’ doin’?”** he slurred before the sword swung through the air with a swish and carved straight into bone and flesh, bright red blood spurting into the air.

The garbled scream of agony that ripped free from McCrees throat was enough to freeze a heart, the noise bouncing around the room. He immediately began to writhe in pain and try to pull away which was just making matters worse and causing blood to spatter from the wound.

 **“Hold him!”** Genji barked, raising the sword again, blood staining the blade.

Tracer practically threw herself on top of McCree to keep him down, the scent of his cigarettes, dust and sweat clogging her senses. She couldn’t meet the cowboys gaze, fearing the look of betrayal in his hues, that combination of delirious fear and misunderstanding. She placed her forehead against his chest plate squeezing her eyes shut and attempting to soothe him **“Shhh…”** She whispered as the sword thudded down again, the cowboys scream practically begging for them to stop. She glanced up briefly, warm blood splashing on her face and clothes as the sword swung through the air yet again, thudding through flesh and bone. She knew by the half breathless noises McCree was emitting that the recent cut had been the one to sever the arm. She grabbed at the fabrics beside her, handing them to Genji who quickly set about wrapping the bloodied stump. The fabric was soaking through quickly, the deep crimson incredibly unsettling but right now they had to keep focused. With his arm freed, step two was get him free and out of here.

It was difficult enough in such a confined space but with Jesse fighting them it became a real challenge. He was a wounded animal, lashing out weakly as a result of the pain that was tearing through his side and arm. His skin felt like it was on fire, his mind was so scrambled he didn’t even know what he was trying to achieve let alone who he was with anymore. Sweat formed on his brow, a few tears escaping his eyes as his two comrades slowly lifted him from the pole, quickly padding the wound to stem the flow of blood. The two of them operated in near silence, Tracer gently hushing the cowboy on occasions and mumbling words of encouragement which appeared to fall on deaf ears. He was going into shock, his turning body cold, rapid breaths on the verge of hyperventilating and his body shaking in their combined grip. They needed to move quickly, less all their hard work be for nothing.

 **“We must keep his arm elevated”** Genji murmured, moving around and grabbing the cowboy under the arms, tugging him up and waiting for Lena to grab the male’s feet. She’d expected him to be heavier, but with adrenaline running through them it was going to be the least of their worries. She couldn’t help the guilt that clawed at her as they quickly and carefully carried Jesse towards the exit. His head lolled, resting limply on his shoulder as they set him down and readied to carry him up to the surface, Genji darting ahead quickly to check Angela was waiting for them topside.

******

Tracer knelt beside the cowboy resting his head on her lap and keeping the bloodied stump where his arm used to be elevated. Her fingers sweeping his hair away from his face before flinching away when he stirred, heavy eyes opening slightly to look at her. **“Almost there luv just hold on a bit longer”** she said gently, hating the look of fear and agony in his hazel hues.

She felt his right hand grab hers, pain crossing his features **“I…”** his words struggled past cracked lips, gasped and hoarse. **“I don’t…wanna die here….”** He wheezed, Tracer biting hard on her lip and shaking her head. **“We won’t let you. We won’t!”** she promised, his gaze was struggling to focus, almost like he was looking straight through her, but still he managed to curl the corner of his mouth into a faint smile before his eyes closed again, the smile fading from his lips. Tracer let out an involuntary squeak of concern when Jesse fell limp in her arms the man becoming a dead weight. She quickly got to work, pressing her fingers against his severely bruised neck, checking for and feeling his weak heartbeat beneath her fingertips. He was clinging to life, fighting valiantly but for how long?

The sound of gravel tumbling into the room signalled Genji’s reappearance, the Cyborg pausing at the sight of Jesse lying limp and blood soaked in Tracers grip. **“Quickly, Angela is waiting for us on the surface.”** He spoke urgently, voice wavering briefly in concern before he approached and grabbed under Jesse’s arms, Tracer grabbing his feet again.

Together they half dragged him up to the surface, where Mercy was immediately by their side with a worried look on her face. Ushering them to lay the cowboy on the stretcher nearby she swiftly got to work, injecting a number of solutions, taking readings and even replacing the bloodied fabric that had been used to cover his wounds before drawing her staff from her back and engaging the gentle golden glow to try and keep him stabilised.

Tracer and Genji stood silently watching. Whether the cowboy was out cold due to the heavy drugs that had been pumped into him or the pain and exhaustion had finally won the battle was impossible to tell, but their gaze didn’t move until the gentle rumble of the transport landing nearby whipped up the wind and scattered dust around the area.

The pair of them were spattered with streaks of fresh blood, dust and dirt. As the stretcher carrying the cowboy was lifted their gaze shifted to watch as Jesse’s remaining hand hung limply off the edge of stretcher, bloodstained fingers briefly dragging against the ground before Mercy silently urged the agents carrying the stretcher to lift it higher, placing his arm across his chest and easily keeping pace with her staff as they moved him onto the transport.

A nudge to the arm prompted Tracer to glance at one of the transport pilots. **“We’ll be taking off soon. Dr Ziegler wants to get him back to headquarters as soon as possible, so if you wanted a lift back-”** the question hung in the air before the Brit nodded slowly.

 **“Thanks Luv’”** she murmured before her eyes lit up in realisation and she sucked in a breath. Her hues fixed on Genji’s before she blinked out of sight, the cyborg reaching a hand out after her, confused by her sudden departure. A glance to the pilot confirmed the male had no clue as to the Brits disappearing act either.

A few moments passed in silence, Genji flexing his fingers scowling at the blood of his comrade that was drying in the crevices of his cyborg fingers. Blood that should not have been spilt. Had intervention been allowed in the first place this whole scenario could have been avoided. To a degree Overwatch had become the covert Ops and Blackwatch just the fodder. Now Jesse’s life was hanging in the balance. He heard the faint whoosh as Tracer returned, blinking into sight with an all too familiar tattered cowboy hat gripped between her bloodstained fingers. She bit on her bottom lip gently before speaking softly **“He’d be livid if we didn’t return his hat”** she said breathlessly.

Genji approached slowly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to comfort her **“Indeed. I believe the phrase Jesse would use is ‘Madder than a wet hen?' Either way we had best ensure it is returned to him”** he took pride in the small smile that spread across Tracers lips.

 **“You’re right…he would be madder than a wet hen”** she chuckled before drawing in a slow breath and walking with the cyborg onto the transport, the dusty cowboy hat firmly between her fingers.


	11. Surgical Stabilisation

**"** **Angela, what's happening?"** Jack was stood on the other transport with a more than angry Gabriel Reyes at his side, the man stood with his arms folded and the beanie so far forward he worried that a simple frown would see it cover his eyes. In the back Torbjörn and Reinhardt sat in silence, waiting to hear of news after the last update on Jesse's condition.

 **"** **I'm a little busy right now Jack, I'll call you back when I can"** Angela's snappy response was out of the ordinary but easily got the Strike Commander to ease off the comms and allow the combat medic to get to work despite Reyes shifting beside him wanting to demand an answer.

Her hair loosely tied back out of her face she was darting around the transport frantically, grabbing any and all supplies she had available in her attempts to keep the rapidly bleeding out Blackwatch agent stabilised. Her blue and white Overwatch uniform already had spatters of fresh blood on it, but nothing compared to that of Tracer and Genji who were currently stood at the gunslinger's side attempting to assist as best they could. Lena was grasping the caduceus staff as if her own life depended on it while Genji kept the bloodied stump of McCrees arm elevated above his heart to help slow the bleeding. Both agents had a harrowed and tired look in their eyes, their uniforms littered with dust and rubble. They were concerned, and with good reason to be. Angela darted back across to the bedside, glancing over Jesse's limp form with a concerned frown before swiftly getting to work trying to stabilise him, tearing various syringes and bandages from packages, a few beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she worked diligently, occasionally giving order to Genji so he could facilitate her work.

Gently unclipping the damaged breastplate, she eased it off the cowboy's body and tossed it aside, swiftly drawing a pair of scissors from a pouch on her hip and cutting through the dark fabric of his shirt, pulling it apart to reveal his torso and assessing the damage. Heavy bruising had begun to form across his entire ribcage in violent shades of purple and black, dark blood stained the skin around the large circular wound in his side where the pole had skewered him. She frowned as fresh blood bubbled from the wound before grabbing some more kerlix gauze and padding the wound, watching the crisp white fabric quickly turn red under her fingertips. She repeated the process a few times until she was satisfied, dumping the crimson bandages into the silver bin at her side before grabbing two vials and filling two separate syringes, spying the curious look Tracer and Genji were giving her.

 **"** **I'm giving him some morphine to help with the pain"** she explained, finding a vein on his right arm and injecting the liquid before fetching the other syringe and repeating the process **"Narcan. To help reduce the emotional effects Morphine can have"** she put the syringes on the side, blowing some strands of hair from her face and checking the cowboys pulse beneath her bloodstained gloves, counting each beat, her gaze not drifting from her watch until she was satisfied. Pulling her gloves from her hands she looked to Genji and Tracer, the Brit still clinging to the staff until Angela gently pried it from her fingers and balancing it beside the cowboy, it's gentle glow working overtime to keep him stable as she made a temporary platform to rest his bloodied stump on. "There isn't much else I can do for now" she said softly **"Once we are back at headquarters I will be able to better assess his condition, but for now the fight is his own"** she glanced to the front of the transport **"I must speak with Commander Morrison. Call me if anything changes"** she said, the sound of her heels echoing in the room as she left Genji and Tracer at McCree's side, both staring down at him in silence before sitting, a heavy sense of hopelessness washing over them both.

Lena was grasping the tattered cowboy hat in her fingers when the cowboy stirred on the bed, a grunt escaping his lips as he shifted in pain before his face screwed up in agony, teeth gritting and his breathing becoming sporadic. In a flash, she was at his side, her hands resting on his right arm to reassure him **"Take it easy luv"** she said, watching as he opened his eyes a few times, confusion evident on his face amongst the contortions of pain that flashed across his features. He wanted to sit up, Lena placing her hands on his shoulders to keep him down **"Just stay put, everything's going to be just fine"** she smiled at the cowboy, watching as his brown hues drifted from her to the ceiling, his breathing rapid as he fought panic and pain, swallowing occasionally before his lips parted, garbled murmurs escaping him. Lena bit on her lip anxiously, rubbing his arm briefly to try and settle him before glancing around for Angela with a furrowed expression.

McCree was trying to make sense of everything, his head was pounding, the room spinning and the pain that was searing through every part of his body was becoming intolerable. What day was it, who was he with again? He was struggling to catch his breath, grunts of pain and discomfort escaping him before his lips parted to try and speak again, he drew in a breath and gagged on it, gargled on what felt like water before his throat constricted and he coughed, feeling warm liquid spurt past his lips, that coppery taste all too familiar as he began to choke on it, a hot wave of panic washing over his body as he realised he was choking.

 **"** **Lena!"** Genji had seen the cowboy splutter, fresh blood spurting past the man's lips before he began to choke on it. The cyborg darted to bedside urgently, lifting Jesse's head to try and alleviate his symptoms. **"Fetch Angela!"** he instructed, the Brit disappearing in a flash of blue towards the front of the ship. Still McCree coughed and spluttered, gagging and gargling on his own blood, the cyborg unable to do anything but hold the man up slightly and watch as bright red blood spurted past cracked lips and dribbled down his chin. Fortunately, Angela was back on the scene in record time, gloves on and scalpel in her hand ready to go and a calm look in her eyes **"Lay him down. Can you hold him still for me Genji?"** She urged. The Cyborg nodded, lying the cowboy back down and holding him as still as he could, McCree fighting them as he struggled to breath, brown hues rolling into the back of his head as he began to lose consciousness again.

Angela numbed the area and swiftly got to work, cutting through the skin above his collar bone, before fumbling with a large plastic tube and gently easing it through the new wound, into his trachea and down before attaching the suction valve. **"Almost done"** she said, briefly glancing to Genji with a thankful half smile.

Genji frowned in deep concentration as he held McCree still, watching Angela work on securing the tracheostomy tube in place, well aware of Lena stood off to the side trying not to lose her lunch. The tube in place, Angela activated the suction valve, bright red liquid travelling from the cowboy's lungs through the tube into the large plastic container off to the side. Moments passed before Jesse stopped fighting and gasping for air, relaxing with a wheezed exhale and lying still, his lips and neck now stained with blood. Crisis averted. Angela breathed out slowly, glancing towards the front of the transport **"Thank you, both of you for your assistance"** she smiled at the two agents before the pilot instructed them to ready for the landing sequence.

******

Winston had arranged everything for their arrival. The second the transport door opened other medical staff rushed aboard eager to get the Blackwatch agent down to the operating room as soon as possible. Angela grabbed her caduceus staff, disabling the golden glow and handing it to Lena as she passed before gently running down the halls towards the operating room to clean up.

 **"** **He couldn't be in better hands"** Winston spoke from behind Lena and Genji, his large hand resting on the Brits shoulder as he smiled and took a moment to adjust his glasses on his nose. **"You both did an incredible thing today, you should be proud"** he said before seeing Tracers Chronal Accelerator spark briefly and frowning. **"I really need to look at that, both of you get cleaned up then come and see me in my lab. I would also like to assess your suit Genji now that it has been out on a field run"** he saw Lena about to argue and interrupted **"There is nothing more you can do for now, and your own situation is equally important. Once we have finished there may well be an update on McCree's condition"** this received agreement from the Brit, both she and Genji walking off towards their private quarters to freshen up as Winston headed towards his lab.

Lena had freshened up, had her chronal accelerator both examined and still no update arrived from the operating room. She knew both Strike Commanders had touched down a short while after they had, both men heading straight towards the Operating viewing room. Lena now found herself pacing the lounge, biting on her fingernails anxiously awaiting some sort of news. The atmosphere was heavy, Reinhardt sat on the sofa in a t-shirt and jeans, hunched over slightly with his large hands clasped together and a solemn expression on his face. Across the room Torbjörn sat with his arms folded and a scowl etched on his features as he tinkered with an odd device that still resembled nothing more than a bundle of wires and scrap metal.

 **"** **Beruhigen* Tracer."** Reinhardt spoke up with a concerned tone **"Come. Sit down"** he gestured beside him, watching the female consider his offer.

_[*Beruhigen – German for 'Calm Down']_

**"** **You're driving us crazy with all your dam pacing"** Torbjörn piped up with a harsh tone.

 **"** **She is concerned. We all are…"** Reinhardt rubbed at his jaw.

 **"** **Speak for yourself"** Torbjörn muttered, drawing the attention of both Reinhardt and Tracer simultaneously **"If you ask me he was askin' for trouble. Barrelling in to places where he wasn't supposed to-"**

 **"** **-He was helping!"** Lena fumed, her hands balling into fists at her sides as she stared down the Swede.

 **"** **-He's Blackwatch."**

 **"** **What does that matter?"** Reinhardt stood with his arms folded, Lena nodding in agreement at the Germans words.

Torbjörn shook his head, continuing to tinker with his device **"All Blackwatch actions are suspended, he shouldn't have been anywhere near the dam place, and to go charging in all gung-ho? What did you expect? Can't trust 'em, the kids always been a loose canno-"**

 **"** **-Torbjörn!"** Ana barked the male's name from the door, a scowl on her face. **"Suspended or not, McCree was given orders to assist with the mission and did so without question. What occurred today was unfortunate, but lives were saved and like it or not Jesse is a comrade in arms. Show some respect"** her steely gaze didn't leave the man, Torbjörn exhaling and getting up, leaving the room while muttering under his breath.

Reinhardt pinched the bridge of his nose with a slow exhale **"I am sorry about him, he has never been one for showing concern."**

Ana nodded in agreement **"He cares. He just lashes out like a feral cat when cornered by emotions"** she said with a gentle smile, Reinhardt chuckling at the description and nodding before Ana continued speaking **"I just passed Angela in the hall, she had just wrapped up surgery and had McCree transferred to-"** there was a flash of blue and a metallic taste in the air as Lena vanished from the room, leaving Ana and Reinhardt stood in momentary silence.

 **"** **He pulled through alright?"** Reinhardt asked, folding his arms and glancing down to Ana, glad to see her nod.

 **"** **He did. Only just"** She leaned against the larger man with a look of concern in her eyes **"But I fear that his battle has only just begun"** she folded her arms, feeling Reinhardt loop a large arm around her.

 **"** **Then we must ensure he does not fight alone"** Reinhardt said with a smile before the pair left the room to give Torbjörn the update.

******

Lena ran through the halls as fast as her feet would carry her, blinking around other Overwatch agents before skidding to a halt to stop herself colliding with Commander Morrison, breathing quickly to catch her breath and saluting him. **"S-sorry sir"** she breathed, eyes shining up at him, the commander shaking his head at her in understanding.

 **"** **No harm done. He's in the room at the end of the hall, Doctor Ziegler and Commander Reyes is with him currently."** He stepped aside, rubbing at the inside of his eyes, looking tired yet relieved. **"You did a good job today Oxton"**

Lena froze in place, surprised by the praise but managing a stammered thank you before Morrison continued speaking.

 **"** **Despite everything that happened you kept a level head and because of that many lives were saved, including one of our own. You should be proud of what you've achieved. Keep it up."** he smiled at her, rubbing at his chiselled jaw briefly **"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some explaining to do regarding our unauthorised intervention in Kings Row"** he said, stepping past her and walking down the hallway.

Lena stayed put, watching the Strike Commander's blue coat fade further and further down the hall before she darted in the opposite direction, sliding to a halt outside McCree's room. She was tempted to peer through the glass but found the curtains had been drawn shut. Instead her hand was now hovering over the handle before she inhaled slowly, knocking rhythmically on the door before opening it and slipping inside, her back against the wall and her hands behind her back.

The gentle beep of the heart monitor was a rather welcoming sound in the room despite the mechanical whooshing of the machines that were forcing the Blackwatch agent to breathe. Crisp, white bedsheets provided no contrast against the sterile white of the room, various machines and monitors tangling over each other across the floor and onto the bed where McCree lay motionless. The usual sun kissed glow to his skin was gone, instead an almost greyish complexion replaced it, seeking to have him vanish into the white of the sheets if not for the stark contrast of the mess of brown hair on his head and bruising she could see forming around one of his eyes and already around his neck. The tube forced between his lips that controlled his breathing unsettled her greatly, but the tube that had been forced into his windpipe on the transport was now gone, a gentle line of stitching covered by bandages. She found her gaze drifting down from his face towards his torso, somewhat relieved that the sheets covered the fact he was missing an arm. Despite that he looked like he was in one piece, battered to hell and back, but all in one piece. She hung her head when she realised she was just kidding herself, beneath the white sheets lay a battered and broken human with a missing arm and an array of gauze, tape and stitches holding him together.

 **"** **Lena"** Angela spoke softly, turning away from the heart monitor with a soft smile on her tired features. Her heels made minimal noise as she crossed the room, placing a hand on her arm to silently reassure her.

Lena tilted her head **"How is he?"** she asked gently, biting her lip.

 **"** **How the fuck do you think he's doing?"** Reyes had stepped into the room with a coffee in his hand and an irked expression on his face. The scowl he shot Lena made her step aside slightly, almost fearing his judgement. He skulked across the room, sitting heavily beside the bed and frowned at the coffee cup in his hands, his expression almost as bitter as the dark liquid the mug contained.

 **"** **Reyes"** Angela spoke softly, a stern undertone warning the Commander to mind his manners before she turned back to Lena **"He's stable for now. Surgery took much longer than I had expected, we ran into some...complications"** she said, clasping her hands together and looking back towards the cowboy

 **"** **You call dying on the table a fucking complication!"** Reyes growled, his grip around the mug tightening, knuckles whitening angrily as he ground his teeth together.

Lena glanced to Angela with wide eyes, the female doctor exhaling slowly **"Yes, it's true we did almost loose him on the operating table but he pulled through. He is stable now and that, is what matters"** she closed her eyes briefly, taking a slow breath **"I would appreciate it if you maintained a positive environment for my patient Commander. It will assist with his recovery"** she said, arms folding as Reyes looked to her, lips parting to question her logic **"Studies have shown a positive environment can assist with recovery, in fact 90% of patients studied responded well to environmental changes"** Reyes exhaled, getting to his feet.

 **"** **Fine. If anything, and I mean anything, changes you contact me first understood?"** he said sternly, Angela nodding before the Commander pushed past Lena and out the door, the rooms atmosphere immediately becoming more relaxed.

 **"** **Best not tell him I made up those statistics. I do believe there is some truth to it though"** Angela said before walking over to one of the IV's and checking the levels **"I'm keeping him sedated for now, it's for the best while his body heals from surgery. You're welcome to stay with him if you would like, I'm just taking some of his readings"** she said, plucking a pen from behind her ear and grabbing the clipboard on the side, scribbling down a multitude of numbers.

Lena was grateful the Blackwatch commander had left, she understood his upset but the glances she received made her feel wholly responsible for the incident. She shuffled towards the bed, sitting on the chair beside it and linking her hands together, placing them on her lap and watching as every breath of air was forced in and out of the gunslinger's body. She hung her head, feeling tears forming and sniffed once to try and hold herself together. **"Doctor Ziegler"** she spoke quietly, not looking up from her hands as she spoke " **Do you think- if I had spoken sooner this could have been avoided?"** she asked, finally meeting Angela's gaze.

The doctor turned to face her, arms folding gently as she tapped her pen against her lip thoughtfully. **"No, I do not"** she said finally, walking around the bed and gently perching on the edge to face Lena. **"I believe some events are not avoidable, they must occur to let us grow as humans. Had you spoken up sooner others could have been injured in the explosion or worse. The circumstances are not ideal, but considering everything that could have happened I suppose it is the better outcome. Jesse is alive, you never gave up trying to find him and because of that he is still with us. He may not be able to right now, but I am sure he will thank you the first opportunity he gets"** she said with a smile before the cowboy stirred with a pained grimace. **"That'll be his morphine running low, excuse me for a moment please Lena"** she said getting to her feet and leaving the room momentarily.

Tracer stood by the bedside, watching McCree with a concerned expression **"I hope you're right Doctor Ziegler."** she said before leaving the room.


	12. Nightmares of Reality

**Authors Note:** _I just want to take this chance to thank everyone who has been reading my story thus far! It started off as a little exploration into Jesse's Background and now has a whopping 12 chapters with more to come! Thank you for your support, and please do not be afraid to message, leave reviews etc. I'd love to hear your ideas, opinions and theories on what you think may happen next! I'm also contemplating adding in sub chapters to explore between stages, so let me know if this is something you'd like to see! (maybe more young Fareeha and Jesse adventures?)_   
  
_\- Jedders Out!_

* * *

 

 **"Oxton! Get your head out of the clouds!"** Lena snapped to attention and blinked just in time to avoid a dodgeball that was thrown at her, the Brit turning to scoop one off the floor and retaliate, launching it into the arms of Commander Morrison. The Strike commander frowned at her gently before shaking his head **"Let's call it a day"** he suggested, tossing the ball aside and watching it bounce across the floor, running a hand through his hair and stretching his arms above his head. His grey t-shirt rose above his midsection slightly, the arms and back darkened with sweat from the workout.

Lena nodded gently, adjusting her chronal accelerator gently before meeting the commanders gaze **"I'm sorry sir, I just-"** she exhaled, looking down at the floor wondering if the hard wood of the gym had always been so clean.

 **"You're still worried, I understand that. What happened in Kings Row was tough, but it's been over a week now. You can't dwell on these things forever"** he placed his hands on her shoulders **"You speak to any Overwatch agent and they will tell you exactly the same thing, you have to keep moving forward. Stay still too long and you'll drown in what could have been"** the training room door opened behind them, a nervous assistant stood before saluting.

 **"I-I'm sorry to interrupt Sir, but Director Petras is on the line for you."** The assistant stammered, beads of sweat running down the side of his face as Morrison nodded and stepped back from Lena with a shrug.

 **"Duty calls. Think about what I said Oxton"** he said, grabbing his towel from one of the benches and slinging it over his shoulder while walking towards the door, glancing back over his shoulder **"He couldn't be in better hands here. Doctor Ziegler is the best out there"** he said with a smile before disappearing from the room, the assistant jogging slightly to keep up.

Lena exhaled gently, heading off to shower, deciding that she would stop by later that day to check if Jesse had woken up.

O O O O

For the past week and a half Jesse had been laid on his back, bandaged, stitched and stabbed with more needles than a porcupine. His grey complexion had begun to even out as the blood he lost was replaced, a hint of his golden complexion returning to his bruised skin. Angela had removed the tube from his throat after day 3, replacing it with an oxygen mask and after day 4 she had withdrawn the sedative hoping the gunslinger would wake naturally in a day or two. His heart monitor beeped consistently, almost rhythmically in the silent room as Angela took another look at his IV drips, chewing on the end of her pencil thoughtfully then glancing over to the unconscious agent with a furrowed brow and a gentle sigh. The bruising around his neck and left eye had developed in full force, dark shades of black and purple with smatterings of yellow around the edge. She could still make out the faint lines around his neck where she had determined the OR Unit had grabbed him, fully intending to choke the life out of the agent. His chestnut hair, usually kept in place under his hat looked black, greased to his head in need of a proper wash to get rid of the dust, debris and sweat that had accumulated, not to mention the significant amount of unruly facial hair that had sprouted around his jaw. The usually tidy agent looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, and despite all her medical training there was only so much Angela could do to assist him. Waking up was a fight he had to face alone, all she could do was be there for moral support.

Angela had been looking into his note when one of his fingers twitched against the crisp bed sheets. His mind felt heavy, but through the darkness he could make out a garbled beeping noise, consistent and dam right annoying. His eyes flickered beneath heavy eyelids, muscles twitching around his lips and forehead before the gunslinger slowly opened his eyes, squinting as the sterile room assaulted his eyeballs. A deep groan resonated from his throat, immediately catching Angela's attention, the blonde doctor darting to his side, her hands resting on his right arm. **"Jesse?"** her voice was gentle, the cowboy moving his head slightly, struggling to pinpoint where the noise was. Angela leaned closer with a concerned frown, the cowboy looking at her through half opened lids as her feathered figures appeared in his vision. He didn't see the tired lines around her eyes, the concern in her eyes, the white of the room caused an angelic like glow to radiate around her, her skin softened by his blurred vision and the light. The cowboy was swiftly drawing a conclusion that he was probably dead, about to let his eyes rest again when Angela tapped the side of his face gently.

 **"Jesse? Jesse, can you hear me?"** she cooed, gently waving a hand in front of his eyes and looking content when he flinched slightly before nodding. He could hear her, loud and clear. Cracked lips parted, the cowboy immediately aware of how dry his mouth and throat was, a rasped noise all that escaped him before pain hit him. Searing pain spiked behind his eyes causing his calloused fingers to curl up, grabbing a fistful of the bedsheet and squeezing his eyes closed again with a pained groan. Angela immediately pulled away, adjusting his pain relief and taking the chance to brush some hair away from his face. She perched on the edge of his bed, gently resting her hands on his right one, waiting for a level of awareness to show itself before she started speaking to him.

 **"Jesse, I need you to listen to me very carefully ok?"** Angela spoke up when the cowboy finally relaxed on the bed, his eyes still half open, a dazed expression on his face. He took a few breaths before nodding slowly at her words. **"You were seriously injured in the explosion at the Kings Row Power Station. Tracer and Genji managed to locate you amongst the rubble, and bring you to me for treatment."** She paused, the cowboy licking his lips and wincing briefly, breathing deeply with the oxygen mask on, his brown hues focusing on her, his brow furrowing ever so slightly at her words. **"I have done everything I can to treat your injuries, but you have been unconscious for nearly a week and a half now"** she saw him tense, brief alarm in his eyes causing her to reach out a hand to stop him reacting suddenly **"You were sedated for much of that time because of the injuries you sustained-"** she bit on her lip gently, hating the pure energy it was taking for him to focus on her words before launching into an over complicated analysis of his various injuries, the cowboy loosing focus and not listening any further, wanting to pull his own mind together.

Jesse winced and tried to recall the events in his mind, blurred images of stumbling through dark halls lined with generators, bright red eyes beaming into his face, the feeling of heat by his face, the whirr of guns. A large bang then silence. He grunted, the images in his head drawing a headache into the fray. Instinctively he moved his left arm to rub at it eyes, the limb feeling fat and heavy. He almost expecting his hand to slap him in the face, imagining the limb flopping around as if he had been lying on it for too long. Instead nothing happened, no sensation of his hand against his face, and yet he was sure he was moving that arm. The look of alarm in Angela's eyes caused him to crane his head up off the pillow and look to his left, his breath catching in his throat and a hot wave of panic washing over his body as he saw the bloodied bandages that signified the end of his arm. The limb amputated above his elbow, the thick gauze soaked deep crimson. Jesse froze, attempting to wiggle the fingers on his left hand, his mind playing tricks on him. He could feel his fingers wiggle at his command, taunting him but yet nothing moved before him, nothing existed past his elbow. Nothing but a sense of loss, followed by an overwhelming sense of panic that caused his heart beat to spike and his breathing to become erratic.

 **"Jesse? Jesse."** Angela had seen the cowboys reaction to his missing limb and tried to snap his focus back to her, resorting to tapping the side of his face and tugging his gaze away gently. **"Look at me. Jesse!"** she rose her voice, the frantic beeping of his heart monitor alerting her to his alarmed state, not that the look on his face and in his brown hues didn't scream it from the rooftops. His lips parted, words not forming, instead choked gasping noises of confusion and pain escaped him. She knew what he was trying to say and let her gaze soften **"You were trapped beneath the rubble, removing your arm was the only way to save you. Genji and Lena did an excellent job, and once the swelling goes down we can look at getting you a prosthesis."** He didn't seem convinced by her words, his right hand moving grasp what remained on his left arm **"Jesse, you will get through this alright? I promise you, this will get better"** she said, reaching over and adjusting some of his IV's. **"For now, it's important you rest. There are a number of tests I need to run now you have regained consciousness. Relax ok?"** she watched as his gaze became heavier, the adjusted IV's pumping a mild sedative to help calm him down. She stood from the bed, shooting him a sympathetic glance as he allowed himself to relax, his right arm still gripping his left as his eyes slowly began to close. With any luck, he would wake in a few hours, a little more lucid and calmer.

O O O O

A gentle knock on the door a few hours later altered Angela to Lena's arrival, the Swiss doctor glancing up with a gentle smile noting the relief and surprise on the Brits face when she saw Jesse was finally awake, his brown hues watching the Swiss doctor bandage his stump, the oxygen mask having been tugged away from his face and placed beside him. **"Come in Lena, I've just finished up"** she said, gently pinning the last piece of fabric into place before setting about removing her gloves, Jesse pulling his stump closer towards his torso and settling down a little more in the bed, a tired somewhat forced smile gracing his roughened features as the Brit clasped her hands together and approached the bed, sitting on the chair Angela vacated. She hadn't expected the awkward silence, the Brit actually lost for words before opting for a light-hearted approach.

 **"So, you decided to finally join us?"** she teased, the cowboy lifting his gaze from the end of his bed to her before letting a small smirk tug the corner of his mouth.

 **"Y'all know me, I need my beauty sleep"** his southern drawl was spoken with a heavier tone, the words almost carrying a physical weight, each syllable scratched by the rasping in his voice **"Can't say it's done me much good though"** he added, Lena frowning gently at his words, noticing how he would allow the upbeat persona he was famously known for slip when he thought she wasn't looking.

 **"A-are you doing alright?"** Lena asked before cursing herself for asking such a stupid question **"I mean, how are you feeling?"** she tilted her head slightly, hands clasped together on her lap, almost scared to touch the cowboy in case he fell apart. Again, she saw him force a lighter tone, a gentle shrug of his right shoulder and a half smile tugging the corner of his lips.

 **"Don't 'chu worry none. I'm here ain't I? Besides, Docs fixed me up with some kick ass meds. Aint' that right doc?"** he glanced to Angela who nodded and continued to adjust some of the monitors. Jesse rolled his head to look at Lena with a tired smile **"I've had hangovers worse than this darlin'"** he joked before wincing and placing a hand on his chest painfully.

Reyes and Morrison had both visited already, with very different approaches. Jack had been irritatingly formal about the entire visit, assuring him that they would get him a prosthetic and that he was handling some of the press kick back from the Kings Row mission. Reyes however was unusually sympathetic, almost unsure how to react and instead cussing the entire mission despite Jesse explaining how assisting had partially been his idea. Both visits had left him with a headache, and he knew full well Reinhardt had tried to barge in earlier for a visit. Thankfully Angela had turned the gentle giant away as she needed to redress some of his wounds, but the large man had promised to return later. He didn't mind people showing they cared, but he hated feeling like an animal in a zoo, guilty and sympathetic faces while he was trying to come to terms with losing his arm. Everyone telling him it would all be alright eventually. As if they knew something he didn't. He was lost in his thoughts, frowning gently before Lena cleared her throat nervously and snapped his attention away from his thoughts.

 **"Sorry you were sayin'?"** he prompted, rubbing at his eyes with his right hand.

Lena gently bit on her lip and avoiding McCree's gaze before speaking up again after his prompt **"I- I'm really sorry about your arm. How -how are you coping?"** she said, noting the brief flicker of upset that crossed the cowboys features before he shook it off and smiled at her, the bruising around his left eye shadowing his face somewhat as he rotated his stump, looking at it.

How was he coping? The question was laughable, and it took a lot of his will power not to retort with a sarcastic answer. He could see flashes of that moment when he closed his eyes, Lenas face illuminated in the dark by the Chronal Accelerator and Genji's illuminated by the red accents of his suit. He could see the cold steel of the sword glinting menacingly above him, like an executioners' axe. The pain he felt in his stump when the meds were running out was like reliving the moment over and over. His gaze hardened at the thought before he forced an answer past his lips.

 **"Nuthin' fer you to apologise for darlin'"** he said forcing his gaze to meet hers **"I mean…I fuckin' liked that tattoo but what can ya do? Bloody thing cost me forty bucks though…"** he trailed off, Lena catching the saddened look in his eyes as he looked over the stump most likely imagining the intricate Deadlock gang tattoo that had been etched on his forearm was still there. It was a part of his history, and as much as he'd joked about getting rid of it to cut that part of his past away like the fat on a piece of beef, the Blackwatch agent felt a bit of loyalty towards it, like the buckle that adorned his belt, or his hat. It defined him, and led him to this moment. As McCree exhaled slowly and cleared his throat Lena decided not to push her questioning any further and instead change the topic to something a lot more positive, babbling on about how Winston was ordering far too much Peanut Butter for it to be a simple treat and joking about an official intervention. She spoke on about numerous members of Overwatch, but couldn't raise a smile from the cowboy, instead he seemed to drift off into his own thoughts only snapping to attention when Angela called his name for the third time.

 **"What!"** he snapped his response, looking bewildered, tired eyes lacking that glint of chaos that typically accompanied the grin that adorned his features. Angela was stood one side of the bed, her clipboard in her hands and a concerned frown on her face.

 **"Lena was asking if you would like your hat cleaned"** Angela explained, gently folding her arms, analysing McCree's reaction carefully.

 **"Oh. Yeah. Thanks"** he rubbed at his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as Lena opened her mouth to ask him something else **"Listen, I'm feelin' pretty beat, d'ya mind If I grab some shut eye?"** he rubbed at his jaw, hating the feel of the scraggly beard that had begun to take over his features like unkempt weeds. Lena looked a little hurt by his words but the nodded in understanding and got to her feet with a smile.

 **"Sure thing. I'll have it washed and bring it to you tomorrow"** she said cheerfully, wringing her fingers together as Jesse nodded once and winced after shifting to get comfortable. A small farewell and Lena left the Blackwatch Agent alone with Angela, the Swiss doctor looking to him with a frown.

**"Jesse is everythin-"**

**"-Doc I just want to sleep. Will you quit yer fussin'?"** Jesse's retort was snappy and out of character, the gunslinger turning his head away from Mercy and closing his eyes.

 **"I understand, I'll let you sleep."** Angela murmured, leaving the room, flicking off the light switch before closing the door behind her.

Jesse lay in the dark, staring at the glow of his heart monitor with a gently frown etched on his brow and his right arm grasping his left bicep, fingers digging into the skin, reassuring himself that part of his body was still there. His lid began to close slowly, sleep washing over him, easing him into darkness.


	13. Road to Recovery

Jesse stood uneasily in the bathroom two days later, his right hand resting against the tiled wall, his breathing steady as he allowed the warm water run over his body. He had passed the initial stinging stage of entering the shower and was now content to allow the water wash over his body and face. What remained of his left arm was bandaged in what Angela called a protective bandage, but in all fairness, it was just a glorified plastic bag. He watched the water swirl down the drain, tinged a gentle pink from the dried blood that stained his body finally being rinsed away before he ran a hand through his hair, the sensation of his fingers dragging on the strands similar to the squeak of green beans between the teeth. He withdrew his hand, managing to fumble some shampoo onto his hand and awkwardly lathering it through his scalp, wincing as the occasional soap sud washed into his eyes. Washing with one hand was a dam nuisance but as he turned the shower off and slowly stepped out he couldn't help but enjoy the clean feel of his body.

His hand grasped for the towel, struggling to wrap it around his waist before he stood in front of the sink, wiping condensation from the mirror and staring at the male who met his gaze. Brown hair slicked back from his face showed the full extent of the bruising around his eye and cheek, a small bald spot on the right side of his head where a wound was healing. The wound that had pierced his side was stitched up, the skin raw and puckered. It would inevitably scar but he wasn't afraid of that, just another to add to the collection. His torso was still a violent array of colours without the bandages to hide the damage. Purples, blacks, yellow and blue, like a child's finger painting.

He could see the uneven array of his ribs, recalling Angela telling him the exact number that had been broken or fractured but for the life of him he couldn't actually pinpoint the number in his mind. All he remembered was hearing the words flail chest and her warning about how it would impact his lung capacity until the injury healed. She was right, even walking to the bathroom and back would leave him breathless sometimes, which is why he had been showering for a good hour and a half so as not to tire himself out. It also explained the frantic knocking on the bathroom door outside, which he realised had been going on for quite some time now.

 **"Jesse! Answer me! I have Reinhardt here…if you don't answer I'm sending him in"** Angela was stood the other side of the door, her ear pressed against the wood and Reinhardt stood behind her with his arms folded more than ready to break down the door. Still no answer, the Swiss doctor stepping back and nodding to the German Giant. Reinhardt stepped forward, rotating his arm before fully bracing himself to bust open the door.

 **"Drei….Zwei….Eins…"** the door opened suddenly, halting the Lieutenants' charge immediately as Jesse stood staring at the pair of them with a gentle frown etched on his brow.

 **"Y'all know how hard it is to shower with one hand? Let alone trying to take a piss…"** he was holding his towel in place by his side, Angela relaxing and placing a hand on Reinhardt's arm.

**"You didn't answer. We were worried you-"**

**"-Worried I'd slipped in the bathroom and was lyin' on the floor starkers with my ass in the air? Well sorry to disappoint ya Doc, but no show today"** he took some amusement from the pink hue that spread across Angela's face before she coughed and frowned at him, grabbing his clothes from the side and thrusting them towards him.

Jesse stood still, raising an eyebrow at her, the pair at a stale mate. To take his clothes he would have to relinquish his grip on his towel, therefore letting it fall to the floor. Angela finally seemed to understand and quickly pulled the clothes back towards her, arms wrapping around them. **"I'll- I'll put them in the changing room for you"** she said turning towards the changing room, Jesse shaking his head

 **"That'd be helpful, thanks Doc"** he watched her go, looking to Reinhardt who chuckled to himself.

 **"Ah my friend, it's good to see you did not lose your sense of humour"** he said, a large hand ruffling Jesse's damp hair before the man turned to leave him in peace. Jesse took a slow breath, wincing at the pain that spiked across his ribs before he shuffled into the changing room, staring down at the loose jogging bottoms and white t-shirt Angela had left for him. Not exactly his usual attire but he was still under Angela's watch. Dropping the towel, he set about getting dressed, quickly realising how exhausting dressing with one hand after over a week and a half in bed was going to be. When Angela decided to check up on him she found him sat on one of the benches, fully clothed but trying to catch his breath, a pained grimace on his face.

 **"Let's get you back"** she said, gently helping him to his feet, sensing his resistance at being escorted **"You've managed a lot by yourself already today, your body is tired. Now stop being stubborn and let me help you"** she spoke sternly, Jesse wheezing his agreement and walking slowly at her side back towards his room.

O O O O

**"What do you mean the funding has been fucking denied!?"**

Reyes barked, spit flying from his lips as he stared down the Blonde commander on the other side of the empty bed.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose **"It was the Directors call, my hands are tied Reye-"**

 **"That's bullshit. After what he did the least he deserves a fucking prosthesis!"** Reyes barked back, hating how Jack was so calm. He had walked in on the Overwatch commander informing Jesse that the funding for his prosthesis was not being permitted due to the circumstances in which he had obtained the injury and the pair had been spitting arguments at each other for the past 10 minutes.

**"I'm not saying he doesn't, fucking hell Reyes I want to help! Blackwatch Action was suspended when Jesse sustained his injury, plus we were operating in Kings Row against direct orders from the British Government. This is Petras putting his foot down, I can't go around him on this."**

Reyes shook his head **"This is bollocks, you gave him those orders Jack and this is the result. What do you propose we do then Commander? Fucking kick his ass out on the street once he's patched up because he won't be able to shoot for shit. That fucking mission took his shooting arm, and you and I both know how an injury like that ends careers"**

Jack sighed in annoyance **"I know Reyes you don't have to remind me. I regret what happened daily and wish I could change things, but I can't. I am just as concerned for Jesse's recovery as you are, but for now I'm not doing anything. We will find a way around this, it's important to take some time out to think about the situation."** he rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight to his right side **"For now, the priority is ensuring Jesse recovers fully. Angela said he can't have a prosthetic fitted yet anyway as his wounds are still healing. We just have to be patient-"** he stared down the Blackwatch commander, hoping the man would agree on this.

 **"Y'all are still bitchin' at each other?"** McCree rasped, limping into the room with Angela assisting him, a tired grin on his lips, his right arm wrapped around his chest painfully. The two commanders turned to look at him, both silent before clearing their throats, Jesse shaking his head **"It's like listen' to a married couple, can't a fella take a piss in peace round here nowdays without returnin' to a dam domestic?"** he said with a raised eyebrow, Angela careful to keep a hand on his back to steady him.

Reyes folded his arms **"I'm just trying to get things sorted out for you. It would help if Commander Morrison wasn't dragging his heels with everything"** he shot a glare at the blonde commander, Jesse interrupting before they could begin arguing again.

 **"I already told ya'll it's fine, I don't need some fancy metal limb. I still got my right arm last time I checked. Now if y'all didn't bring me any flowers or some decent liquor then I'm guna hafta ask ya to leave"** he winced, leaning against the bed, the two Commanders hesitating before shuffling from the room, leaving Jesse alone with Angela once more, the Swiss doctor gently placing a hand on his back with a concerned look on her features. The cowboy hung his head with a pained exhaled, chestnut hair falling over his face as he let a wave of pain pass through his ribcage.

 **"You're taking this very well, most people would be upset at the news. Are you sure you're alright?"** Angela questioned the cowboy softly, noticing his grip on the end of the bed tighten before he nodded.

 **"As sure as the sky's blue. Morrison has a point, and if his hands are tied then there ain't nothin gona change the facts."** He looked to her with a tired smile on his lips **"Guess I'll have to lean to be a righty eh Doc?"** he mused before straightening up, sucking a breath in slowly. **"So how long ya' plannin' on keepin' me here? Not that I mind, it'd just be nice to sleep in my own bed for once"**

Angela tucked her hair behind her ear thoughtfully **"Well, you have been progressing well these last few days. I can't see why you shouldn't be allowed to return to your own quarters"** a smile crossed her features before she folded her arms **"But, you must promise me to take it easy. No training, cut back on the smoking and attend your check-ups"** she said sternly.

Jesse smirked **"Best behaviour, you got it doc. Although, I can't promise miracles"** he rubbed the lower section of his ribcage as Angela dismissed herself to fetch him some more pain medication. He slept in his own bed that evening, and needless to say it was one of the best sleeps he had experienced in a while.

O O O O

The halls were strangely quiet for a Sunday morning in the Swiss Headquarters. Jesse was awake early, slowly dressing in a loose white tee and jeans, slipping on a pair of loose trainers before heading down the hall, the lack of spurs and defined step his boots provided rather unsettling, especially as his walk was slow, each step an uneasy limp as he held his right arm around his aching torso, determination in his tired brown eyes and a gentle sweat on his clammy face as he fought through the pain and discomfort of walking.

He neared the room in question, taking a moment to lean his hand against the doorframe and catch his breath, teeth ground together in pain until it subsided and he pushed open the door to the training room, immediately greeted by the synthetic voice of Athena.

**"Good Morning Agent McCree, how are you feeling today?"**

Jesse continued his slow gait, directing himself towards the shooting gallery, fishing his Peacekeeper from the waist of his jeans and placing it on the table, setting about trying to fumble rounds into the cylinder with his right hand, cussing under his breath when a couple of bullets slipped from his fingers and rolled off the table.

 **"I have been instructed to inform you that the training room is off limits today"** Athena spoke up again, the cowboy halting his actions and placing his hand flat against the table, a few slow breaths steadying his irritation before he spoke to the disembodied voice.

 **"Now, why'd I reckon it was Doctor Ziegler who gave you them orders?"** he muttered, before fumbling through the ammunition with his right hand, and shakily shoving another bullet into his gun.

**"That is correct. Doctor Ziegler has explained that under no circumstances are you to be left unattended for prolonged periods of time whilst you are still in recovery. You are also prohibited from partaking in any training or use of munitions until your health has reached an appropriate level"**

Jesse scowled down at the desk in irritation, cursing the doctor for reading his potential actions. He needed to get this out of his system and he wasn't going to wait any longer, more so because sitting around all day was driving him bat-shit crazy. An idea sprang to mind, Jesse running his tongue over his teeth before smirking to himself.

**"Say Athena, if I'm not permitted to partake in training then don't that mean I have to leave this room?"**

**"That is correct"**

**"So doesn't that put me outside? Where I will be unattended? Tell me Athena, if I required medical assistance what would be best? Being in here with yourself or wanderin' about unattended?"** he let the AI ponder his question, his hand resting on the gun awaiting the answer he was about to receive.

**"Conclusion. It would be best for you to remain under my watch"**

Jesse lifted the gun from the table anyway, limping towards the training line **"Just as I expected, now if you could be a doll and set up a nice trainin' protocol for me I'd really appreciated it?"** he waited, the gun unusually heavy in his right hand even without all the additions it usually had wrapped around it. The targets didn't move, Jesse leaning his weight towards his back foot and rolling his eyes. **"Athena?"** he called, irritation in his voice.

 **"Munitions training is still prohibited."** She repeated.

Jesse balanced the gun off his ring ringer, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger a growl of irritation escaping him **"I am aware of that, just set up the dam session Athena"** he paused, shifting his gaze to the ceiling and letting his hand drop to his side **"Or I'll have to go a few rounds with the practice bots instead"** he chewed the inside of his lip hoping the AI was considering the situation.

 **"Training with bots would place you outside of my watch."** Athena spoke, thinking aloud almost.

 **"Leavin' me unattended…"** Jesse added before smirking as the targets began to shift around the room for him, the gunslinger taking pride in his small victory **"Thank ye' darlin'"** he said as the targets stopped moving.

**"Protocol initiated, begin training in 3….2…..1"**

Jesse raised his peacekeeper in his right hand, scowling at how much his arm shook against his will. He was left handed, always had been, and now with the chance of a prosthesis ripped away he was faced with being a useless bum or seeing how he handle himself with only one arm. He was known as Deadeye back in his Deadlock days, his quick reactions and precise aim an instinct, not a skill. It couldn't be that hard.

He squeezed the trigger, the recoil of his gun, once so familiar felt like a bucking bronco to his weaker right arm, jarring his healing ribs and staggering him slightly, the shot firing off wildly against his will as he let out a grunt of pain and cussed under his breath.

 **"Agent McCree, shall I alert Doctor Ziegler to your situation?"** Athena asked, the Blackwatch agent shaking his head.

 **"Nah, jus' just leave it be. I'm fine."** he said painfully, raising the gun again for a closer target and pulling the trigger, the shockwave of pain that shot through his body causing him to stagger again with a cry of pain.

**"Agent McCree, I am alerting Doctor Ziegler to your current condition"**

**"Don't ye' dare Athena! Jus' fuckin' leave me be! That's a goddam order!"** Jesse spat through gritted teeth, breathing heavily as he fought the pain in his chest, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face, veins pulsating around his temples as he raised his gun a third time, the peacekeeper barking again, the bullet actually clipping the target. Jesse cried out in pain, doubling over briefly but keeping on his feet breathing heavily, his jaw clenched, gun raising again. He needed to prove to himself, he needed this confirmation.

**"McCree!"**

Again, he fired, his vision spotting as he fought the pain that threatened to send him to his knees. He was shaking violently, a lone tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek as he bit through the pain, his jaw clenched so tight he feared he would grind his teeth into dust. His head was spinning, stationary targets appearing to sway in his vision while darkness began to blur the outer edges of his sight like a vignette. The gun barked again, the bullet ricocheting off the backwall yards away from the target he had been aiming for, the sounds muffled as blood began to roar in his ears and he stumbled backwards.

 **"Jesse? Jesse! Stop this nonsense before you hurt yourself further!"** A female voice was suddenly in his ears, delicate hands easily managing to wrestle the gun away from his hand and toss the empty weapon aside, the gun skittering across the floor well out of reach. Jesse fell to his knees, the female at his side slowing his descent before kneeling beside him. He kept his head bowed, right arm around his torso, tears of pain escaping his eyes his breathing a heavy wheeze as he fought the light headedness. His body was heating up, a cold sweat soaking through his shirt as he placed his hand face down against the floor, gasping for air slowly, gentle hands rubbing at his back, the world slowly fading back into focus as the pain started to subside.

 **"What on Earth were you thinking? Do you know how far an additional injury could set you back?"** the voice was scolding but gentle, an arm looping around him to comfort him and support him. He knew that voice all too well, that smell of floral perfume mixed with herbal tea and a hint of fabric softener. Ana Amari. Jesse raised his head, sweat glistening on his face as he shook his head and looked back to the floor.

 **"I needed- to see for myself"** he muttered, eyes resting for a moment.

 **"See what for yourself?"** Ana asked disliking the silence that followed, her own gaze drifting towards the door of the training room, wondering for a moment if anyone else had heard the shots. She had been passing by when she had heard the all too familiar bark of McCree's Peacekeeper and diverted towards the room knowing full well the gunslinger shouldn't be anywhere near this room while he healed.

 **"Well shit…would 'cha look at that"** Jesse's his voice wavered, the gunslinger swallowing heavily as he looked towards the targets, Ana following the cowboys gaze towards the targets. He had fired 5 times in total, evident by the shell casings on the floor, and yet only one of the targets had been grazed by one of the bullets. He was trying to prove his worth, like he had done all those years ago in the very same room. The disappointment in his brown hues was hidden by his stern expression, Ana touching his arm to reassure him gently.

 **"You will improve with practice Jesse."** she spoke gently, feeling him tense beneath her touch before he slowly adjusted his position, sitting with his legs out in front of him, rubbing above the stump of his left arm with a frown etched on his face.

 **"Don't give me that bullshit"** he muttered bitterly **"A fuckin' snake in a cowboy hat could shoot better than that"** he said shaking his head, drawing a leg up and resting his right arm across his knee **"You can't sugar coat shit. So, don't bother"** he muttered before exhaling slowly, strands of hair falling over his eyes, the pair sitting in deafening silence, just looking at the targets before them.

 **"Believe what you must, but you will improve with time."** Ana spoke up suddenly, looking to him sternly **"Once you are well enough, we will begin training"** she said, Jesse looking to her with a frown of confusion " **You have a long battle ahead of you Jesse. You can choose to let it beat you or you can stand up and fight."** She smiled gently, placing her hand on his back and rubbing gently to comfort him **"Should you choose to fight, you will not do so alone, all of us will be here to help you."** She pushed herself to her feet and offered him her hand, the cowboy hesitating before grasping her hand with his, Ana helping him to his feet. He stood taller than her, always had, but the grateful look on his face drew a smile to hers.

 **"Thank you"** he said gently **"I would be honoured to have you fighting by my side"** he added, nodding at her, his right hand resting in his pocket.

Ana folded her arms **"I'm glad"** she said before frowning at him **"And don't you ever use that language or tone towards me again Jesse McCree or there will be hell to pay"** she wagged a finger at him like a parent scolding her child watching Jesse chuckle and hold up his hand innocently.

 **"O'course Ma'am."** He smirked at her before the sound of the door opening alerted the pair to Angela's arrival, the Swiss doctor having been summoned by Athena. She paused with a soft, sympathetic expression as she McCree and Ana together, resting her hands on her hips.

 **"I hope you were not doing what I think you were Jesse"** Angela said sternly, catching the brief guilt across the gunslingers face as he looked to her.

 **"Who me? Nah, best behaviour Doc."** He winced at the end of his sentence, shooting her a somewhat bashful grimace **"Well, sorta best behaviour"**

Angela sighed and approached him **"Why am I not surprised. Come, I had best check you over"** she said, escorting Jesse towards the door, shooting Ana a grateful nod for watching out for him. The Blackwatch Agent had a tough battle ahead of him, and this would either make or break him as a person.


	14. A Lit Fuse

Recovery was proving to be a slower process than he had anticipated. Following the incident in the shooting range Athena was given strict instructions to lock the doors and prevent the cowboy entering while Reyes had confiscated his beloved peacekeeper and given him a stern warning not to be stupid and hinder his own recovery.

Everyday tasks were difficult with his stronger arm out of action. Trying to shave by himself had led him to slice his face to ribbons so he had abandoned the attempt and sat away in his chambers that morning to avoid dealing with the problem. He felt like a teenager again, looking in the mirror and seeing his now uneven beard surrounded by the spots of tissue paper. Luckily for him, Reyes stopped by that afternoon with some medication Angela had prescribed and once he had stopped laughing about the state of his beard, fetched Jesse an electric razor which proved to be much easier to manage. It still left him feeling scruffy, but it handed him a level of independence back which improved his mood slightly and solved one of his rapidly increasing list of difficulties.

Sleepless nights caused by a mixture of pain, medication and nightmares had led to him wandering the base at all hours, only for him to eventually fall asleep on the sofa in the rec room or in small corners of the base. Many times, Angela had spotted him by chance tucked away in an alcove or hallway corner, his back against the wall with his hat tipped down over his face, a gentle snoring escaping him. She had jostled him awake, encouraging the cowboy to get to his feet and urging him to return to his chambers and sleep in his bed, more often than not receiving a mumbled promise to and only discovering later that the cowboy hadn't listened to her in the slightest.

The other agents around the base were trying their best to help him where they could, but the gunslinger found many of their attempts to be irritatingly condescending. Conversations that occurred felt forced, as though the individual felt it was their duty to interact with him on sight, while others simply met him with a sympathetic smile, their eyes giving away the pity they felt. This only soured Jesse's mood further. He wanted a middle ground, to be treated as though nothing had happened but instead he was either being smothered or put out to dry, and as the days progressed and the pain in his phantom limb began to worsen McCree found himself withdrawing from everyone and everything. The tattered hat that adorned his features was now purposely tipped forward at all times to shield his eyes from others and avoid attempts and interactions, his usual upbeat and chatty nature dwindling rapidly and leaving a shell. An emotionless, empty shell that was hiding a rapidly burning fuse.

O O O O

The hustle and bustle of the canteen was one of the last places Jesse would have wanted to be in his current state, but after having slept most of the day his growling stomach seemed to be threatening to chew on itself so he had been resigned to fetching his dinner around peak time. He counted his blessings that the line wasn't too bad, aware of a significant number of agents being deployed to various watch points and missions of late. He hadn't paid any attention to the briefing summaries since the accident and had no idea what was occurring with the suspension of Blackwatch operations let alone what the Overwatch Agents were being tasked with. Not that he cared, currently he was eyeing up the menu from underneath his hat, drawing a slow breath and grabbing a tray from the side.

He settled on some sort of unidentified meat dish with a mixture of vegetables and a bottle of water and was getting a feel for the weight of his tray by briefly lifting it with his right hand, noting how the limb shook with the effort threatening to toss the contents of his dinner. He set it down, exhaling in irritation and glanced around for the nearest seat, chewing the inside of his cheek. It was a short enough distance, providing he maintained a strong grip he reckoned he could adjust the shaking to rebalance anything that slid around the tray. His hand fastened around the edge, lifting it before he turned, concentrating on ensuring the bottle of water or the plate didn't go sailing off one edge or the other. He may as well have been balancing it on a broom for the amount of control he felt he had over it but he was making progress. Well, he was until the whoosh of Tracer blinking up behind him and her cheering greeting startled him.

The concentration he had faded instantly, the tray jerking downwards and sending the bottle of water rolling off the tray first, the sudden weight loss as it tipped off the edge to bounce off the floor sent the tray veering the other way as Jesse tried to correct the balance only succeeding in aiding the dinner plate and cutlery. The plate shattered against the floor loudly, the cutlery loudly clattering and silencing the gentle hustle and bustle in the canteen. Jesse was wincing, grateful that his hat was hiding his clenched jaw and the flush of colour and heat that crossed his face.

 **"Oh shoot, I'm so sorry!"** Lena bit on her thumbnail as she stared down at the mess, stood beside the cowboy before smiling **"It's alright, I'll sort it!"** she said moving forwards to clean up the mess.

 **"Leave it!"** Jesse growled, the sudden words startling the Brit **"I got it"** he muttered, dumping the tray on the table beside him loudly before stepping around the mess, painfully moving to crouch down and pick up the mess himself. Lena wasn't going to allow that.

 **"No no, it was my fault I'll do it"** she said cheerfully, quickly joining him and ducking down to pick up the larger pieces of china, plucking them away from his reach.

Jesse was crouched on the balls of his feet and reached for a larger piece of the broken plate only for Lena to pluck it away. His arm pulled back in response, Jesse glaring across at the Brit from under the brim of his hat, teeth grinding angrily as she continued to chatter on about how she should have been more careful, how sorry she was for the mess. All of it was just white noise to him, grinding on his frazzled nerves and burning down his patience.

 **"Anyway, you should be taking it easy Luv'! Here, let me help. Once you're sat down I'll fetch you another plate!"** her words punched through the noise as she moved to help the cowboy back to his feet, one hand under his right arm, the other looping around his torso. Jesse's fuse finally burnt out. The cowboy exploding.

O O O O

 **"Gerrof me!"** he barked, violently yanking away from her and creating some distance between them, his hand balling into a fist by his side and his breathing heavy. The hall fell silent once again, heads turning to see the Blackwatch and Overwatch Agent staring each other down. Lena looked confused and had yanked her hands away from him the second he reacted, nervously picking at her fingernails. She hadn't seen Jesse react like this to anyone before and part of her was slightly afraid of the anger in his tone.

 **"I'm sorry?"** she said meekly **"Did you want me to-"**

 **"-No!"** Jesse interrupted furiously **"I don't want cha t'do anythin' besides leave me the fuck alone!"** he spat **"I don't need yer apologies and pity, jus' leave me be fer once!"**

Lena nodded quickly, trying to calm the situation **"Alright, I understand"** she let a smile cross her lips to try and lighten the mood, closing the gap cautiously watching him exhale and shake his head.

 **"Nah ye' don't darlin'"** he muttered **"You don't understand at all so don't gimmie that shit"** he briefly licked his lips while catching his breath before continuing, the anger in his tone emphasising his southern drawl **"Tell me sumin'…"** he paused, adjusting his footing **"You tried doing shit without an arm? Getting' dressed, eatin or even just showering?"** he watched a Lena shook her head slowly **"Didn't think so. Lemme tell you a little secret…"** he stepped forwards leaning down slightly to meet her gaze coldly **"Its really fuckin' hard"** he enunciated every word, half hissing it at the Brit. About to continue speaking he was surprised to see Genji suddenly dart between them, placing a hand on McCree's chest and easing him away slightly.

 **"You have made your point. Stand down McCree, there is no need for this."** The cyborg spoke with a stern undertone to his synthetic voice **"Lena only wishes to assist you"** he added.

Jesse snorted, taking a step back while looking at the floor shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. **"That's funny"** he muttered chuckling to himself and drawing his hand over his jaw, noting the confusion on both their faces **"Y'all think you know exactly how I feel? You don't know shit!"** he snapped **"I don't need yer fuckin' pity and I certainly don't want your goddam help!"** he pointed at Lena, looking to Genji **"an' that goes for you too Shimada, I don't want anythin' from either of you. Not after last time"** realisation washed over both their faces as they knew exactly what the cowboy was chewing them out over.

 **"You are angry with us over what occurred in Kings Row"** Genji broached the topic first, standing tall and trying to meet the gaze of his comrade, the very same individual who had saved him many years back **"You have every right to be angry, but now is not the time or place to discuss this. Let us go elsewhere and-"** Genji spoke softly, only for McCree to interrupt.

 **"-Angry? Angry?!"** he laughed at the very idea **"That's puttin' it lightly!"** Jesse adjusted his hat, shaking his head as Lena stepped forward to interrupt **"No!"** he pointed at her the action silencing the Brit and causing her to shrink back, biting on her lip **"You don't get to tell me how I'm feelin'. Neither of you do!"** spit flew from his lips as he shouted at the pair **"Ya'll lost that privilege when you lopped off my fuckin' arm like it t'was nuthin'!"**

 **"We acted to save your life"** Genji spoke up, folding his arms and looking surprised when Lena chimed in with her own view.

 **"We didn't have any other choice, you needed help and-"** Lena spoke up sternly

 **"-You had a fuckin' choice!"** McCree spat back **"Didn't even have the decency to ask me first!"** he barked **"Y'all are nothin' more than a bunch of cowards! I've seen more guts in a flea!"** he snapped, his hat casting a dark shadow over his furious expression. Genji scowled in response, positioning himself subtly to block Lena on the off chance Jesse decided to strike out. The cowboy was enraged and wounded which made him dangerously unpredictable.

Jesse parted his lips to continue his rant, and it was at that moment Gabriel intercepted the gunslinger, having just entered the canteen with a few Blackwatch Agents behind him. Gabes' hands clamped down firmly on McCree's shoulders, blocking the gunslingers gaze from Genji and Lena, his own expression stern enough to grab his attention **"That's enough!"** he barked.

 **"Get yer hands off me!"** Jesse attempted to push past his commander, only for Gabriel to drive his shoulder into his chest, shoving him backwards and glaring at him, a silent dare for him to continue the challenge. Jesse stood still and silent. A smart choice.

 **"My Office, right now!"** Reyes barked, before grabbing McCree by the arm and frog marching him from the canteen, easily batting away any attempts the cowboy made to wrestle himself free.

As the canteen doors swung close behind them, the room descended into a light mumble of chatter, agents getting back to their dinner and discussing what had just occurred. Genji exhaled and turned towards Lena, seeing the guilt in the Brits eyes before she caught him looking and forced a smile.

 **"Well that just happened…"** she said with a nervous chuckle, running a hand through her hair and avoiding his gaze.

Genji nodded slowly **"Might I suggest getting some-"**

 **"-fresh air? Thought you'd never ask"** The relief that crossed Lena's features also made the cyborg aware of the water that had lined her eyes, the Brit blinking back tears and hiding it behind a smile. Genji gestured for her to walk with him, the pair heading out into the night air and finding a secluded spot to enjoy the silence and gather their thoughts.

O O O O

Gabriel frogmarched McCree all the way to his office, kicking open the door and shoving the male into the room, blocking the exit when Jesse spun around to make a quick escape. **"Sit your ass down McCree!"** the lights flickered and spluttered to life having sensed movement in the room, revealing an average sized office. The back wall had a window which looked out on the grounds of the base, the closed blinds currently preventing anything from being gained from the view, while the side wall nearest to the desk held a multitude of display screens. Typically it would house a multitude of information, but all were set to a screensaver of the Blackwatch logo. The desk was littered with paper work, old shotgun shell casings and empty coffee cups, two chairs infront of the desk for guests and lying across the other back wall a sofa where Reyes would frequently take a nap or hold more informal meetings.

Jesse was still stood firmly in place, a scowl on his features, his hand balled into a fist at his side. Taking a step forward Gabe started into his brown hues, opting for intimidation to get the results he wanted **"Sit down. Do not make me ask again"** Gabriel spoke sternly, the words enunciated with a scowl as he gestured towards the sofa. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but McCree exhaled and backed down like a submissive pup, shuffling towards the sofa and easing himself into it. Stuck in a smaller room, and having been close to the cowboy the unmistakable scent of alcohol that radiated from the cowboy was not masked as heavily by the scent of his cigarillos. Reyes moved towards the water cooler in the corner of the room, filling a glass and approaching the sofa, offering it to McCree abruptly.

Jesse didn't move, staring down at the floor but very much aware of the glass of water he was being offered. **"It's not a suggestion"** Reyes growled **"Drink"** he instructed, watching as the cold glass of water was reluctantly taken from his grasp. He folded his arms, waiting for Jesse to take a significant swig of the water before nodding in approval and grabbing one of the chairs from behind him, spinning it into position and straddling it, resting his arms on the back of it. **"Now, you going to tell me what the fuck that was about?"** Reyes asked, trying to keep his temper in check.

McCree shook his head, resting the glass of water on his knee and refusing to make eye contact, grateful for his hat to cover his face. **"T'was nuthin'"** he muttered, the words slurred slightly.

Reyes huffed **"Yeah, sure looked like nothing."** He rolled his eyes **"Certainly didn't look like you were going to punch one of them either. Now I'm going to ask again, what was all that about?"** he watched for a reaction, a response or even a sign but was met with nothing. An irritated sigh escaped him, Reyes rubbing at his eye **"Fuck's sake Jesse"** he said, disappointment in his tone **"You smell like a fucking brewery, you're sleeping in the halls, walking around at all times of night and now you're fighting with other agents in the canteen? Just talk to me Kid!"** again the silence, the lack of eye contact. Jesse was just staring at the glass of water.

Gabriel pushed himself to his feet **"Fine, I can't make you talk. But you can't go around behaving like this. I'm warning you now, if you don't start to buck your ideas up you're going to find yourself in a shit-ton of trouble and I'm not bailing you out of this one."** He moved towards the door, opening it, a silent dismissal. **"You're falling off the deep end McCree. I just hope to god that you have a fucking end game because at this rate you're just going to self-destruct"** he leaned against the door, waiting for the inevitable shuffle of the Blackwatch agent getting to his feet.

Silence. Then a choked noise and a sharp intake of air. Gabriel looked back with a concerned frown at the gunslinger, watching as the glass of water was placed on the floor before Jesse wiped at his face with his right hand, sniffing once and clearing his throat. Was he crying? The Strike Commander certainly was not expecting this sort of reaction, he led a covert Ops division, an area that specialised with the crap nobody else would deal with and in all the years he had worked with McCree since plucking him from Blackwatch he could only recall seeing the gunslinger cry one other time. Even then the stubborn teen had denied it, despite the fact his bloodshot eyes, tear stained cheeks and snotty nose sold him out.

Reyes closed the door gently, silently navigating around the chair to sit on the sofa beside McCree. His large hands clasping together as he chewed thoughtfully on his lip, eventually sighing before patting McCree on the back gently. **"Everything will be alright"** he murmured giving the agent a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. He wasn't good at this crap, and judging by Jesse's outburst earlier he wasn't sure the best course of action to take to reassure him. The cowboy wiped at his eyes again before lifting his gaze to look at him, eyes were heavily bloodshot, watering against his will alongside his nose, the tired and defeated look etched on his features unusual for Reyes to see exhibited from the typically confident agent.

Jesse forced an awkward half smile, choking slightly on a small laugh and cuffing his nose with the back of his hand **"Well shit, think this throws me well and truly off the deep end eh boss?"** he said, slumping his shoulders and hanging his head, ashamed of appearing so vulnerable in front of his Strike Commander.

Reyes shook his head before awkwardly rubbing Jesse's back to reassure him **"Not at all. In fact quite the opposite"** he patted him on the back again before pushing himself to his feet and approaching his filing cabinet, plucking two glasses and a bottle of whiskey into view. Filling the glasses with the amber liquid, he offered one to the cowboy who took it reluctantly, lifting his gaze to meet that of his strike commanders. **"Don't make a habit of it, but I reckon we could both use a stiff drink"** Gabriel said sternly before raising his own glass, a coy smile tugging at his lips as McCree nodded and copied the action. The pair knocked back the drinks, Gabriel sitting down on the couch with the bottle of whiskey in his hand.

 **"Just so we're clear, you're apologising to Oxton and Genji for your actions first thing tomorrow. On your knees grovelling for forgiveness if needs be"** He began to refill the glasses.

 **"Yes boss"** McCree murmured, swirling the amber liquid around the glass thoughtfully, successfully curbing his emotions, his eyes looking just exhausted and sore now, most likely a mixture of alcohol and sleep depreviation.

 **"I mean it McCree."** Reyes said setting the whiskey bottle on the table and leaning back slightly. He looked at the bandaged stump of Jesse's arm with a concerned frown. **"Does it still hurt?"** he asked, gesturing towards it with the whiskey glass.

Jesse looked surprised by the question, looking at the bandages with a solemn expression and pondering the question for a moment before responding. **"Like fucking a cactus"** he murmured abruptly before smirking at the expression of Gabe's face as he utilised the unusual expression **"Makes sleeping a real bitch, but what can you do?"** he added, knocking his drink back in one. He savoured the taste as it burned the back of his throat, leaning back and closing his eyes as the warmth of the alcohol washed over him again, helping numb his senses.

 **"Did you want to talk about it?"** Gabriel spoke up after a while, pouring himself another drink, topping up McCrees glass when he wiggled his glass at the sound of the bottle being unscrewed again.

Jesse opened one eye lazily **"Talk about it?"** he asked.

 **"What happened in Kings Row. How you ended up where you were?"** Reyes noticed McCree tense at the suggestion, knowing what the answer was going to be before Jesse shook his head with a gentle frown.

 **"Not that I don't appreciate the gesture boss, but if it's all the same t'ye I'd rather not"** Jesse sipped at his drink thoughtfully **"B'sides thought you were chewin' me out, not havin' a heart t'heart?"** he said with a small smirk as Reyes rolled his eyes **"Seriously thank ye' though, I mean it. Didn't know you could be so nice"** he said with a gentle chuckle, leaning his head back and resting his eyes with a few slow breaths as Reyes shook his head and resumed consuming his drink.

 **"Yeah, don't get used to it"** Reyes muttered bitterly.

O O O O

The pair sat in silence for a long time afterwards, Reyes eventually sighing before knocking back his own drink, frowning thoughtfully at the empty glass while gently tapping the outer edge. His gaze shifted to the clock noticing the time and putting the lid back on the whiskey bottle, turning to McCree and pausing at the sight.

McCree had passed out, his head lolled forward, hat having slipped over his eyes and a quiet rumble emitting as he snored. He debated waking the agent for a moment before opting against it, exhaling and getting up slowly so as not to disturb him. Plucking the empty glass from McCree's hand he set it on the side with the other before gently easing the cowboy to lie down on the couch, watching as McCree stirred briefly, smacking his lips together in a haze of sleep and alcohol before drifting back off to sleep. His mind cast back to their early missions, the young recruit often falling asleep on the hanger back to base, quite often with his head resting against Gabriel much to the amusement of other Blackwatch agents. Grabbing a throw from the back of the sofa he loosely tossed it over the sleeping cowboy before flicking the light switch off as he left his office. Plunging his hands into his pockets as he walked towards his own chambers the Blackwatch Commander took a small solace in the fact the Blackwatch agent was getting some much-needed sleep.

That being said, it didn't stop him from abruptly awaking the heavily hungover Cowboy the following morning and sticking to him like a shadow until Jesse had sheepishly apologised to both Lena and Genji for his actions. Both had forgiven him quickly, Lena opting to throw her arms around him in a crushing bear hug and Genji settling for a handshake.

 **"There, don't you feel better for apologising?"** Reyes teased, having watched the final apology from the door with his arms folded and a smug smirk on his face.

Jesse groaned, dragging his hand over his face, his eyes heavy and a thumping headache behind his eyes. **"You're enjoying this far too much, and why did you feel the need to bang spoons together to wake me this morning?"** he remarked, pinching the bridge of his nose and drawing a slow breath.

 **"If you ask me they let you off too easily, I think you could have given it more heart. As for the wakeup call, you were in my office and I did say not to get used to me being nice"** he approached McCree patting him on the shoulder **"Now go get some rest, you look like shit."** he said before heading for the exit.

McCree exhaled slowly, feeling nausea wash over him **"Don't need to tell me twice"** he muttered with a tired smile before rubbing at his arm and wandering back to his chambers to sleep off his hangover as best he could.

O O O O

The shooting range echoed with the sound of Jesse's peacekeeper daily once Angela had given him the all clear to begin gentle exercise and light training. Naturally the cowboy was trying to push his limits, but between being unable to partake in proper duties and the pains which plagued him of a night throwing himself headfirst into training was the only thing which stopped him from divulging in the bottle of whiskey he had stashed away in his chambers. That being said, the odd glass certainly helped dull the phantom pains if he found himself struggling too much.

This particular morning was no different, his hat on the side of the shooting range booth he had picked Jesse stood with his gun raised and a determined glint in his eye. He had dressed in a charcoal tshirt which had the Blackwatch logo etched on the left of his chest and ditched his usual Deadeye belt buckle, opting for a normal black belt with a silver buckle as it was easier to fasten with one hand than the oversized golden deadlock belt buckle that latched him to his past like a horse to a fence post. His gun barked six times in quick succession, the target swaying as only two of the bullets connected. None hit the centre ring and the other four ricocheted off the back wall with loud clinks causing the cowboy to growl under his breath in irritation. He had been trying for days now and couldn't get within a respectable distance of the bullseye. What use would he be if every shot has a chance of missing. He set about shoving a speed loader into the barrel of his six-shooter, flicking the barrel back into place and aligning his shot again only to pause as Ana spoke behind him.

 **"You're over thinking your actions, try relaxing a little more and breathe slowly"** Ana spoke gently, gently stirring the cup of tea in her hand as she watched Jesse shakily raising his arm level with the target. The limb was quivering involuntarily, the gun held so tight in his grip she could see his knuckles whitening. The bark of the peacekeeper and the inevitable clink as it bounced off the back wall of the shooting range completely missing the target caused the gunslinger to finally lose his patience.

 **"God dammit!"** he spat, slapping the gun down on the side and hanging his head, breathing deeply.

Ana set her teacup down gently, getting to her feet and approaching the cowboy. **"You will get nowhere by giving up the second things become difficult"** she said picking up his gun, the weight of it foreign compared to the sniper she was partial to using. She grabbed him by the wrist, turning his hand over and pressing the gun back into his hand, curling his fingers around it and meeting his gaze **"The action is natural, it flows through your veins and just because you are using a different side doesn't mean that instinct is lost. Try again, focus on your target and try to ignore all distractions"** she spoke sternly, folding her arms as Jesse moved to argue only to sigh and nod in defeat

 **"Yes ma'am"** he murmured, raising the gun again, his jaw clenching, veins on his temple bulging as he fell into the same fault of over focusing. Ana placed a hand on his shoulder and another on his arm, gently forcing him to relax his muscles. Breathe. Jesse closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, brown hues opening as he exhaled and focused on the bullseye. Focus on what he wanted, ignore all distractions. The hum of the air conditioning working overtime faded away into the background, his vision centralising on the bullseye of the target he was shooting for, just his heart beat and the sound of his breathing in his ears. Focus. He squeezed the trigger, the gun barking once and letting the bullet fly, punching a hole in the centre of the target with a satisfying 'plink' of confirmation.

McCree breathed out in relief, staring at the target as it swung with a hole punched through it, disbelief on his face before a grin spread across his features, Ana placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

 **"عمل جيد** **[Eamal Jayid]"** the praise was murmured in her native tongue, pride in her eyes as Jesse set his gun down and stepped backwards, running his hand through his hair. She noticed the tired look in his eyes, dark circles lining the underneath of his brown hues and his usually tanned skin looking a little clammy. The cowboy had been stretching himself thin with his quest to improve and now needed a rest. When he stepped forward to try again she intercepted, placing a hand on his chest and shaking her head at him. **"I think that is quite enough training for today"** she said noting the gentle frown etching on his brow **"Don't you?"** she added, raising an eyebrow, daring him to challenge her.

Jesse backed down without an argument. **"If you say so cap'n"** he grabbed his hat from beside her, placing it back atop his head with a grin **"Thank ye' again, I really 'ppreciate all you're doin' fer me"** he rested his weight heavily on his right side.

Ana smiled gently **"Just doing my job Jesse, anyone here would do the same"** she said noting the cowboy scratch the back of his neck with a gentle chuckle. He had muttered something under his breath, something she didn't catch nor did she want to bother questioning him about. Instead she stepped past him, fetching her tea and walked with the cowboy out of the shooting range and through the halls in silence.

O O O O

 **"Ana!"** Gabriel called out from behind them suddenly. The pair of them turned around, Jesse adjusting his hat and Ana looking at the Blackwatch commander curiously. **"Gabriel"** she retorted softly, allowing him to cross the distance.

 **"There's a briefing in the conference room in five that you're required for"** he said, folding his arms across his chest.

Ana nodded gently **"Very well, although I would be nice to receive prior notice in future Gabriel"** she said noting as the man shrugged his shoulders.

 **"I didn't call the briefing"** he said with a smirk taking a step back as Ana began to walk down the hallway. Jesse moved to follow suit when Reyes placed a hand out to stop him with a stern look. **"Ah ah, not you Mijo"**

McCree scowled, making the motion to fold his arms out of instinct and looking more irritated when what remained of his left arm let him down, leaving him a little uncertain in a stance. He opted to shove his right hand into his jean pocket before speaking **"Since when did you stop me attendin' briefings?"** he spoke with an angry undertone.

Gabriel scowled in response **"No active duty, no mission briefings. Now go follow doctors' orders and rest up."** Jesse, however, was not taking the response lying down

**"Now hold up a sec, you let Hennessey attend briefings when he was struck off duty so what makes this any different to-"**

**"That was different -"**

**"-He broke his fucking leg!"**

**"My point exactly!"**

**"How is that different-"**

**"-Because Hennessey wasn't stupid enough to get his leg ripped off!"** Gabriel wasn't going to have a subordinate shout at him and disobey orders but knew the seconds the words exploded from him that they were a low blow when Jesse flinched briefly in response. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose with a sharp exhale **"Look kid I didn't mean-"**

Jesse took a step back with a shake of his head and a scowl, immediately becoming defensive **"No"** his voice was cold, hardened **"Don't you 'kid' me Reyes, I see how it is"** he spat angrily.

**"McCree, I just meant-"**

**"-Don't fuckin' bother. I heard you loud an' clear, Commander."** He spat in response, taking a moment to adjust his hat **"You'd best get to the briefing."** he frowned in disgust and anger at the strike commander, turning on his heels and stomping down the hallway.

 **"McCree!"** Reyes barked after him angrily before exhaling angrily and rubbing a hand over his face, feeling eyes on him. He turned, spotting Ana shaking her head at him, disappointment in her eyes before she turned and headed towards the briefing room, Reyes following suit.

O O O O

In the briefing room, Reyes sank heavily in the chair beside Ana, sensing her judgemental gaze and pinching the bridge of his nose. He exhaled slowly, the smell of the leather chairs invading his senses before he looked to the female captain **"I know what you're going to say"** he muttered bitterly.

Ana shook her head **"No Gabriel, you do not."** She turned her attention to those in the room, curious to see places for Winston, Angela and Torbjörn set out. **"You can be pig headed sometimes, you let your words run away with you. Your temper controls you more often than not, more so since the Kings Row incident. I know you carry the burden of what happened-"**

 **"-I don't blame myself for what happened"** Reyes interrupted, folding his arms across his chest **"I blame Jack for sending him in there after a Rookie. I blame myself for not being there to stop it"**

**"Stop what? The accident?"**

**"Any of it. The orders, the accident, the fucking uprising!"** he exhaled angrily, running his tongue over his teeth briefly and shaking his head as he recalled the previous evening **"It shouldn't have happened, none of it should have fucking happened."**

**"But it did, and now we must deal with the consequences. Jack did what he thought was best, and McCree was willing to offer his services to help a fellow agent in need. Jesse has always put faith in you Gabriel, trusted your decisions and while he may not show it, he respects your opinion. Treating himlike damaged goods, even unintentionally at a time like this is like throwing him out for the vultures"**

**"So what exactly do you propose I do then?"** Gabriel asked abruptly.

**"Show an interest. You did once a long time ago, and now you can again. I can only help him so much, but if he is to win this battle you must aid him. Consider training him so he can embrace his current state?"**

**"Train him in what exactly? He's been working with me for 10 years now pretty much, only thing left I can think to teach him is how to shave that dreadful excuse for a beard he has."**

**"I'm sure you will think of something Gabriel. Believe me, it will help"** Ana gently ran her finger around the outside edge of her empty teacup as Gabriel pondered her words. **"I must ask. Why did you not allow Jesse to attend this briefing if other Agents are to be in attendance?"**

 **"It is because we are discussing Jesse"** Jack spoke up as he walked into the room followed by Torbjörn and Angela, the trio taking their seats.

Ana raised an eyebrow **"What exactly is there to discuss that Jesse cannot be privy to?"** she asked, attempting to read the faces of the other agents around the table.

Jack clasped his hands together, leaning his elbows on the table and shrugging his shoulders once **"I didn't ask for the meeting. Winston did"** he said before the large gorilla entered the room carrying a flurry of paperwork and muttering apologies under his breath about being late. He dumped the papers on the desk nervously adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat.

 **"I…er…sorry I'm late"** he said, easing into the seat allocated to him and adjusting some of the papers he had before clearing his throat again.

Jack waved off the apology, not bothered by the Apes tardiness **"So Winston, the floor is all yours. You wanted to talk to us about McCree?"** he asked.

Winston nodded **"Yes, sir. I have been thinking about McCree's current predicament following the incident at Kings Row the other month and analysing the possibility of Overwatch being able to provide a solution for his…disability"** he saw flinches around the room at the word. Most people just saw it as an injury, almost like they imagined the gunslinger would wake up and find his arm had grown back. Real life didn't work like that, and the truth of the matter hurt, it would for a long time. The gunslinger had been received life changing injuries, and this was something Winston wanted to address, although he would be lying if he said he had come up with the idea by himself. A certain overenthusiastic Brit had been chattering non-stop in his ear the other day and sparked the entire idea.

 **"The funding was cut, there's nothing to be done. Case closed. Can I go back to me lunch now?"** Torbjörn piped up, clearly in a foul mood as a result of having had his routine lunchtime interrupted for what he saw as a pointless discussion.

 **"What if there was something that could be done though?"** Winston said, seeing the intrigue in the eyes of all those at the table.

 **"Winston, what exactly are you implying?"** Angela spoke up gently, thoughtfully twirling her pen between her fingers, her blonde hair pulled back out of her face in its signature ponytail.

Winston scratched the back of his head before producing a detailed diagram, unfolding it and placing it in the middle of the table **"I'm saying why can't we solve this ourselves?"** he saw the thoughtful expressions and gestured to the diagram, a detailed sketch of a robotic limb drawn out from all different angles. **"I've been working on this for a while, but I need some valuable input and the skills to put the plan into action"** he could see the idea beginning to form and gestured to Angela **"Doctor Ziegler, you excel in the science of nanobiology and as a former head of surgery your contribution to integrating a robotic limb would be invaluable"** Angela shifted in her seat, scratching her head and biting on her lip muttering a gentle agreement as Winston turned his attention to the Swiss Dwarf **"Torbjörn, your skills would be needed to ensure the device works as intended, I was hoping we could work with each other on this. The limb would need to be reliable, resilient and able to function with McCree without flaws"** the dwarf nodded, drawing a hand over his beard.

Still the group looked sceptical, Jack tugging the diagram towards him and looking it over. **"It's very ambitious-"** he began

 **"-I believe we can do it. Just look at what we achieved with Mr Shimada!"** Winston smiled, looking around the room, excited by the idea.

 **"-Genji's circumstances were different, and we had funding to support his suit and enhancements"** Angela interjected thoughtfully, tapping her pen against the desk **"But, I can't see why we couldn't give it a go. The diagram looks very thorough and providing we are cautious, I think we achieve it."**

 **"True, it's just a robotic limb. Not like we're building a fusion cannon"** Torbjörn piped up, appearing to be on board with the idea as he pulled one of the smaller diagrams towards him and began to scribble over it with a pen he had in his pocket.

Winston grunted in agreement **"We don't need funding, I'm not asking for the best money can buy, just the best our skills can create. We help people, we make the world a better place for people. We should do that closer to home too. All we need is the go ahead"**

The silence was tense, both Strike Commanders thinking it over, shooting each other looks as though they were trying to read each other's thoughts. Jack broke the silence first, leaning back in his chair **"I like the idea. Gabe, Ana, what do you-"**

 **"You even need to ask?"** Gabe placed a hand on the diagram **"This is a no brainer. Fucking hell Morrison, the kids done more than enough for us since I dragged his ass out of Deadlock to deserve a chance"**

Ana nodded in agreement **"Winston believes have the capability to achieve this, so why not try?".**

Jack nodded **"I agree. Consider the request granted, and I wish you all luck with the development"** he said with a smile, the group moving to stand only for Jack to interrupt. **"Oh, one last thing Winston"** he waited for the Gorilla to give him his full attention before continuing **"Why couldn't McCree sit in on this?"**

Winston had scooped up his papers, adjusting his glasses again before replying to the Strike Commander **"I didn't want to give him false hope. We have a long way to go in terms of development, testing and even a final design. Besides, it was Lena's who requested that we make it a surprise"** he added.

Jack nodded **"Fair enough, then we shall honour the request."** he said before glancing to Ana **"A moment of your time please Captain Amari?"** before dismissing the rest of the group. Winston leaving to discuss the prospect with Angela and Torbjörn over lunch. Gabriel pushed himself to his feet as well, looking thoughtful for a moment before leaving Ana and Jack alone.

O O O O

The door closed behind the Blackwatch commander, leaving the two in an eerie silence **"So, Jack, what did you need to speak with me about?"** Ana asked.

Jack clasped his hands together **"We have a volatile hostage situation brewing and I'm going to need some backup"** he said, a serious tone to his voice.

Ana frowned **"What kind of backup?"** she asked curiously.

Jack smiled gently **"The kind only the best sniper in Overwatch can provide. I'll get Athena to send you the details, but we could be moving out within weeks"** he pushed himself to his feet slowly **"I already have a strike team ready. This situation has been brewing for a long time so I've had plans waiting in the wings ready for escalation. It's a pity really, I had McCree lined up for this before Kings Row. I wanted to give him the chance to earn his stripes"** he said opening the door for Ana, the female captain stepping past him with a soft thank you.

 **"There will be plenty of other opportunities Jack, of that I am sure. I will await the mission details and get back to you"** she said before the pair parted ways in the hallway.

_*(عمل جيد_ _[Eamal Jayid] = Good Job )_


	15. Legacy

**"How's he doing?"** Jack entered the viewing room that stood above the same training area he had frequently seen Lena and Genji in when they were testing their equipment. Mercy stood with her clipboard in her hand and a gentle look of concern on her face as she surveyed the lesson below

 **"Probably best you see for yourself"** she responded, Jack taking position beside her, folding his arms and watching the scene below.

 **"Again! On your feet!"** Reyes was stood over the gunslinger with a stern expression etched on his brow and his arms folded. At his feet, Jesse was crouched down gasping for breath, brown hair left unruly without his hat to keep it contained, fingertips of his right hand lightly touching the floor to keep him balanced as he caught his breath. Swallowing slowly, he waved off the Strike Commanders words, a sweat glistening on his face.

 **"Give me a sec-"** he rasped.

 **"You think anyone you go up against will give you a second? Get your ass up!"** he barked stepping back as Jesse frowned and slowly pushed himself up. The gunslinger straightening up and rotating his right arm with an irritated look on his face.

 **"There, I'm up. Ya happy n-."** he grumbled only to duck backwards as Reyes launched his fist towards him. Regaining his balance quickly Jesse swung his right arm up to block the blow aimed towards his ribcage with his forearm, quickly moving it to block the blow aimed for his face then rotating his body to block the blow aimed towards his left side, shouldering into his strike commander to knock the man off balance and quickly increasing the distance between them, breathing heavily and watching as Reyes smirked and raised his fists.

The pair locked into a flurry of fists and blocks, McCree keeping his left side turned away from his Strike commander, blocking blows with his right arm and bracing for those he couldn't to reduce the risk of it catching him unawares. Concentration etched on his face as he watched for every move Gabriel was making blocking yet another blow that had been aimed at his ribcage he locked his right arm around Gabriel's, turning into the man and bringing his knee up into his stomach to wind him surprised by the 'oof' that escaped the Blackwatch commander's lips before breaking away and creating a lot of distance, wiping at his brow as Gabriel smirked up at him.

 **"Better, much better"** He said, rotating his shoulders and adjusting his beanie on his head to stop it slipping further down his forehead, he cracked his knuckles watching McCree relax slightly at the praise and taking the opportunity to continue the fight, cranking up the number of blows. The look of panic that crossed McCree's face as he tried to keep up against each punch thrown towards him was quickly replaced by deeper concentration as he moved his right arm up to block and knock away Gabriel's attempts. A few punches got through his defences, striking at his torso and drawing brief winces from the cowboy but he was eager to shrug it off and move on.

 **"Boss"** McCree panted, dodging backwards to avoid a blow aimed towards his jaw before circling around Gabriel carefully. He was beginning to tire, his movements becoming slower and heavier, each block was being left to the last second before Gabe knocked him off balance and struck a blow to his chest easily. Grunting in pain McCree staggered backwards, managing to raise his arm and block another strike, seizing the opportunity and latching his arm around Gabriel's. Tugging down on the commander's arm, the motion allowing him to drive his knee up into the man's gut violently before the pair broke apart both breathing heavily.

 **"C'mon Gabe…let's just call it"** Jesse wheezed, rubbing at his ribs with his head down. He heard Gabe's boots drawing closer and glanced up to see a fist flying towards him and quickly got back on the defensive. Ducking, he skirted left of the male, throwing his right arm around the commander's neck in a choke hold to stop the fight.

McCree grunted in his ear, using his body weight against the grip to try and compensate for his missing arm. Even so, doing such a move one handed was a foolish mistake and Gabriel knew it. Clasping his hands together he drove his elbows backwards, driving hard into McCree's torso in an attempt to loosen the cowboys grip around his neck. The action worked well enough on the first try, Jesse wheezing as the wind was driven from his lungs, pain shuddering through his body as he kept a weaker grip around Gabriel's neck. He was exhausted and knew when he was beat, resigning himself mentally to defeat.

 **"A'ight you wi-"** Jesse lifted his head and couldn't react as he saw Gabriel drive his left elbow backwards towards what he'd believed to be Jesse's throat. A simple miscalculation.

The pain that exploded through McCree's nose was enough to whitewash his vision briefly. He felt Gabe grab at the arm around his throat with both hands, driving himself forward and easily launching McCree over his head. His back slammed hard against the training room floor, driving a cry of pain and a loud cuss from him as his body involuntarily tensed up, his right hand flying towards his nose in response.

O O O O

Jack and Angela were watching the training session with growing intrigue as McCree worked overtime to beat back the blows aimed towards him. Angela flinched when McCree winded the Blackwatch commander and scribbled something down on her notepad. **"He's doing well don't you think?"** Jack mused with a smile, looking to Angela who was nervously chewing the end of her pencil, the swiss doctor looking startled when she realised the Strike Commander expected an answer.

 **"Oh…oh yes, he's been making remarkable progress. I just have my concerns about the training style Reyes is enforcing, it feels a little…unorthodox"** she said nervously watching McCree and Reyes fighting below. To her it appeared to be growing more violent, like Reyes was going against a punch bag not a recovering agent with one arm.

 **"Gabe's always been a tough but fair kind of guy, sometimes a good kick up the rear can do wonders. Besides, Blackwatch falls under him so if that's the way he trains there's not much I can do to interfere."** He said with a gentle shrug **"Besides, can you argue with those results?"** he said gesturing towards the training session, both looking to see Gabriel drive an elbow into McCree's face before launching him easily over his back, slamming the younger male against the floor with a sickening thud. Angela was already darting for the door before the cry of pain escaped McCree's lips and Jack was quickly behind her taking the stairs two at a time.

O O O O

 **"Shit, you alright Kid?"** Gabriel crouched down beside McCree with a concerned frown, balancing on the balls of his feet, arms resting on his legs. Jesse was wincing in pain, grunting before opening his eyes, his right hand still over his nose.

 **"Fuckin' serious?"** his words were muffled behind his hand as he scowled at the commander. Even in his late 20's Gabriel referred to him as a kid, Jesse had assumed this was something that was set in stone so his words were in relation to the blow to the face as opposed to the nickname. His nose was tingling from the blow, his eyes watering in response before he saw about using his right arm to push himself into a sitting position. The second he was upright warm liquid gushed from his nose, the crimson liquid running over his lips and dripping off his chin to spatter on the floor. **"Aw shit"** his hand moved to his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood, only succeeding in covering his hands with the warm sticky liquid.

Gabriel chuckled, patting the Cowboy on the shoulder **"You'll be fine. Good Job though, I'm impressed"** he said with a small smile before the training room door burst open with a bang.

 **"Reyes!"** Jack bellowed angrily, moving to allow Angela to run past him. The medic was knelt beside Jesse's side in a heartbeat, tilting his head to get a better look at his nose a concerned look etched on her face.

Gabriel sighed, pushing himself to his feet and turning to look at Jack, arms folding defensively **"Got a problem Morrison?"** he asked calmly, taking some joy from the anger that crossed the Blonde males face as he crossed the room, anger radiating from every step.

 **"Dam right, you call this training?"** Jack gestured to the cowboy who was sat slightly hunched over, pinching his nose at Angela's orders to stem the blood pouring from his nose.

Reyes shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight to his right foot **"Accidents happen Morrison, and it's just a bloodied nose."**

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose **"That's beside the point, you don't beat the crap out of a recovering agent with one arm"** he spoke through gritted teeth, irritated by Gabriel's actions.

 **"Don't lecture me on how to do my job Morrison. What happens in Blackwatch and to my agents is my decision"** Reyes spoke sternly, both commanders glancing round when Jesse spoke up.

 **"All due respect commander, ain't no harm done"** his southern drawl echoing slightly in the room as he smiled at them both gently, not remotely bothered by the blood that coated his mouth and stained his jaw and neck. He had released the grip on his nose, the blood flow having stopped for a moment as he rested his right arm on his knee **"I've been in worse bust ups than this-"** he was about to continue when fresh blood flowed from his nose, earning him a scolding from Mercy who quickly shoved his head back down urging him to keep his nose pinched.

Jack sighed, about to argue when his comms device bleeped loudly, causing him to glance at it. Circumstances had changed, the strike team he had spoken to Captain Amari about last week was needed now. Tapping at the screen he shook his head, taking a step backwards **"This conversation isn't over Gabe…"** he warned, shooting Angela a parting look before jogging from the room to get ready.

 **"Y'all piss in his cereal or sumin'?"** McCree spoke up again, chuckling to himself as Gabriel shook his head **"Yer like a married couple the way y'all are bickerin' lately"** he teased before spitting blood to the side with a grimace, Angela gently feeling his ribcage, content nothing had been jostled about. **"See Doc, told ya I'm fine."** he said. Angela set about pushing herself to her feet, retrieving her clipboard from the floor and clasping it against her chest, giving Gabriel a stern glare.

 **"Morrison has a point, you should try to be more careful in training sessions from now on"** she said, watching as Jesse began to slowly get to his feet **"This time it was a bloodied nose, next time it could be much worse"** she added, watching as Jesse gave his nose a test wiggle to try and remove the tingling sensation that accompanied the dull throbbing.

 **"Morrison should focus on Overwatch, as should you Doctor Ziegler"** Gabriels' retort was spoken through the corner of his lips, his gaze equally as stubborn. The medic looked surprised by the hostility, about to respond but thinking better of it, simply shaking her head.

 **"My concern is that of a medical professional, not as an Overwatch Agent. You would be wise to remember that Commander. Now if you'll excuse me I have patients that need me"** she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the training room floor, Gabriel dragging a hand over his face in annoyance.

O O O O

Jesse slowly stepped over, taking position beside Gabriel and touching his nose with a wince. Seemed tensions were high everywhere at the moment. The infighting was growing worse, and with Gabe and Jack seemingly at each other's throats more and more each day it was rubbing off on the interactions between the Blackwatch and Overwatch Agents. Both units had cohabited peacefully, but as of late even the smallest thing could spark petty argument, cold glances and muttered words. He had been focused on his own recovery, and considered himself firmly planted with a foot in both teams, having assisted on Overwatch missions in the past alongside his Blackwatch duties. He also had no qualms with anyone from either side, preferring to take a back seat and avoid unnecessary conflict. Right now, was one of those times.

He exhaled softly before ruffling his hair. **"Jus' so ya know, I coulda won that fight had I both my hands"** he said with a cocky smirk etched on his lips as he looked to Gabriel, raising an eyebrow in a challenging gesture.

Gabriel chuckled **"Fat chance"** he said, cuffing McCree round the back of the head **"Come on, you owe me a smoke and a beer for that win-"** he said, the cowboy staying rooted to the spot scowling in annoyance **"-or are you going back on your word?"** he asked.

Jesse looked offended at such a notion, shaking his head. **"I might be many things, but I ain't never gone back on my word."** he said before catching up to Reyes, his right hand in his pocket as they left the training room.

O O O O

The mission that had drawn Morrison, Amari and a few other Overwatch members away had taken around two weeks. Jesse had tried to find out a few details, only being told that it was to do with a hostage situation and there were important scientists involved with valuable knowledge tucked away in their brains that could not fall into enemy hands.

The Gunslinger had been making leaps and bounds in his recovery since the canteen incident. Becoming more vocal around fellow agents despite the ongoing bickering that occurred, no longer avoiding areas of the base at peak times and generally acting more like his charming self, his southern drawl and unusual use of idioms much appreciated in the break room or at meal times. It broke up some of the day to day monotony, especially since Overwatch missions had been rather lapse in Jack's absence and Blackwatch duties were still suspended. That being said, the cowboy had his suspicions that a number of Blackwatch agents were beginning to operate under their own agenda out of boredom. What they did, where they went and why he couldn't find out, and what could he do about it? Surely Gabriel knew what was going on, and he certainly wasn't a squealer so speaking to Morrison was most certainly off the table. He resided himself to just waiting and watching, always better that way.

Jesse kept himself busy, training alone in the shooting range and working on getting his physical fitness back in check with the help of Lena or Genji. Both Agents gave him a run for his money and certainly didn't hold back on their joking criticism when they raced ahead when working on cardio. **"Jus' you wait. You'll be sorry for teasin' me!"** McCree wheezed, red faced and sweating like a pig after one particularly demanding session with Lena that morning. The Brit had giggled, resting her hands on her hips and flicking her hair from her face with a wide smile.

 **"You'll have to catch me first luv and you aren't going to do that anytime soon if you can't run more than a few laps"** she chuckled as the cowboy glanced up at her shaking his head with a tired smile before waving her comments away, too out of breath to come up with a witty retort. **"Let's call it a day there, don't want you passing out on me"** she said blinking towards him and handing him his water bottle. Jesse gulped from it like a fish out of water, squirting some of the water over his face to cool himself down before taking a second to splash some at the Brit who quickly blinked backwards. **"Hey!"** she snapped, wiping the spots of water off her chronal accelerator.

Jesse smirked **"Sorry darlin'"** the words leaving his lips smoothly, a cocky smirk on his face. He wasn't sorry, and Lena knew it.

O O O O

That afternoon Jesse had been fast asleep in the break room. His hat was over his face to block out the light, his right arm over his chest as he lay on the sofa. The alarm that rang out startled him awake, the cowboy sitting up slightly and tilting his hat off his face, squinting as the light assaulted his eyes.

_"Attention; Any Available Medical personnel are to report to Hanger One Immediately"_

Jesse licked his lips, wincing and glancing towards the door of the break room, intrigued to see a few Agents running past the door towards the hanger. Swinging his legs off the sofa his boots hit the ground, spurs jingling gently before he yawned loudly, scratching the back of his neck and rubbing at his eyes to get the grit out of them.

_"Attention; Urgent medical assistance required in Hanger one"_

Urgent? McCree adjusted his hat and got to his feet, rotating his shoulder and stepping out into the hall, narrowly avoiding having Liao run straight into him. **"Hey, what's the hurry?"** he asked, the Agent glancing over her shoulder

 **"Morrisons back, the mission went tits up"** Jesse didn't question it further and took off after Liao, the pair running down the hall towards the hanger, bursting into the room and looking around at the chaos before them.

The transport had only landed moments ago judging by the decreasing whirring of the now powered down engines and the waves of heat he could see escaping the thrusters. Medical personnel were darting about the place, Overwatch agents escorting scientists off the ship each with spots of blood over their clothes or faces and a shaken look in their eyes. His brown hues scanned the room as he navigated towards the aircraft, carefully dodging and letting others pass before he spotted the all too familiar figure of Reinhardt stood none too far from the large craft. **"Hey partner, what's goin' on?"** Jesse asked, saddling up beside the large German agent. The lack of greeting, heart laugh and customary slap to the back which typically knocked him off balance drew his attention to the man's face, the sorrow etched on his face sending a spear of panic through the cowboy's gut.

 **"Reinhardt"** Jesse tilted his hat back further, barking the male's name before scratching his head. The Lieutenant shook his head slowly before dragging a hand over his jaw, tears lining his eyes

 **"Today is a dark day my friend"** he said, Jesse frowning before turning to look towards the hanger eyes widening at the body bags now being removed from the drop ship.

Jesse stared, watching each bag being wheeled off the air craft, plucking his hat from his head and placing it against his chest as a mark of respect after the second bag rolled past. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he mentally counted each one that passed, swallowing heavily as he hit five. He glanced around, chewing on his lip, brown orbs scanning the crowd before he spotted Angela. She was hard at work, her blonde hair tied up out of her face as she saw to her patient. Attempting to navigate through the crowds towards the medic, Angela eventually stepping aside to reveal Jack Morrison, the commander sitting in silence with a harrowed expression etched on his face and his shoulder heavily bandaged, blood soaking the white gauze.

Ducking between two supply crates Jesse stood before the strike commander, his hat still held In his hand. **"Commander…"** Jesse spoke, nodding once before looking to the ship. He needed to know, he knew it wasn't the best time to ask but he found himself uttering the question anyway. **"Who?".**

Jack lifted his gaze slowly to the cowboy, the pain in his shoulder numbing as a result of the pain killers Angela had given him on arrival. He could see the unease in Jesse's stance, sense the alarm and uncertainty amongst everyone in the room as the five body bags were taken towards the morgue. Who? Jack sighed, hanging his head only for Jesse to repeat the one word question.

 **"Singh, Kimiko, Mirembe…"** Jack spoke the names with a rough monotonous tone, reciting the list of the dead and pausing to take a slow breath, his hands were resting by his side, grasping the crate he was sat on so tightly his knuckles turned white. **"Bayless, Al-Farouk…"** he closed his eyes shaking his head.

Jesse stood silent as each name was rattled off, the face of each agent flashing in his mind. He didn't know them all too well, he had enjoyed a few rounds of cards with Singh in the past and Bayless would quite often bum a smoke off him at times but even though he hadn't known the others too well their loss hit hard. **"Shit…"** He muttered under his breath before grimacing at the profanity in such bitter circumstances and gently setting his hat back on his head **"I'm sorry for what happened Commander"** he didn't know why he felt the need to apologise, but it felt right. Jack had often done the same when Blackwatch agents were lost in the field. It never brought them back, but somehow an apology helped just a little.

The long list of names was missing one. Jesse glanced around to hangar again, not seeing the long greying hair of a certain Captain. **"Sir, what about Captain Amari? Is she alright?"** he asked, glancing back as silence met his question. **"Sir, was she injured?"** he repeated, noting the pain in Jacks eyes. Angela had even stopped writing to look down at the Strike Commander with growing concern in her blue eyes.

 **"Captain Amari, was engaged by the enemy. Her position was compromised. She-"** Jack paused, sensing eyes on him and drawing a breath **"She never made it to the evac point and her comms device lost signal shortly afterwards"** he lifted his gaze shaking his head **"I don't know where she is or her status"** he said roughly.

Jesse felt like he had been kicked in the gut as the words hit home. Ana was engaged and hadn't made it to the evacuation point. He frowned **"So you left her there?"** Jesse spoke after a long silence, his tone quiet by accusing. He could tell by the shock in the commander's eyes that he hadn't expected the sudden questioning.

 **"We had orders, the scientists were the priority"** Jack spluttered a little on his answer, trying to force a stronger tone to his voice.

 **"You left her alone in enemy territory for a bunch o' stuck up scientists?"** he spat, seeing a few of the scientist's glance over having heard the cowboy's outburst **"Yer sendin' a search party right?"**

**"O-of course I am but-"**

**"-Then I'm goin'"** Jesse interjected sternly

**"-You can't in your condition"**

**"Fuck my condition, I'm goin' to help look for her"** Jesse spoke with a frown.

 **"The hell you are"** Reyes spoke up suddenly, placing a hand on McCree's shoulder before looking at Jack **"I'm sending a search party of Blackwatch operatives to find her. You can't argue ethics on this one Morrison"** he said roughly.

Jack nodded, hanging his head in defeat **"Thanks Gabe"** he murmured.

Reyes turned to McCree with a cold expression **"Come on"** he said, shoving Jesse into motion, the pair walking through the crowds in silence. Jesse glanced back to see Angela gently comforting the Strike commander, most likely trying to get him up and to the infirmary so she could keep a closer eye on him.

O O O O

The Blackwatch search and rescue team were deployed that evening to search for Ana. Despite all his arguments Gabriel had forbidden Jesse from going with the team and so the cowboy had retreated to his room, pacing his quarters and trying to take his mind off it all. He even resorted to tidying his room, tossing out empty cigarillo packs, emptying ashtrays and finally getting around to washing some of his clothes. Even then he found no urge to sleep and with the phantom pains acting up in his arm the gunslinger resorted to taking a walk around the watch point at 4 in the morning, his hat tugged down over his eyes to brace against the cold ocean wind, a cigarillo balanced between his teeth and his hand in his pocket as he trudged through the outside training areas, cut throughs and delivery bays, rather enjoying the serene silence and eventually settling down with his back against the wall of a building just listening to the ocean waves crashing against the rocks below. Legs drawn up to his chest, his arm rested across his knees, his somewhat hunched form retaining warmth as he twiddled his lit cigarillo between his fingers.

As the sun began to rise on the horizon a few hours later the cowboy shifted painfully, joints stiff from the cold and being sat still for so long. His combat trousers damp from morning dew and his eyes heavily bloodshot from lack of sleep he trudged back through the halls of the watchpoint, skipping breakfast and returning to his chambers, perching on the end of his bed and resting his hat beside him. Sitting around doing nothing was driving him stir crazy, Gabriel had his hands tied managing the Blackwatch search team, Overwatch Agents were preparing for the funeral of the 5 that were involved in the mission and Morrison was under strict orders from Angela to rest. His leg shook, his limbs fidgety before his brown hues shifted towards the cabinet in his room, remembering the bottle of Scotch he had stowed away for a rainy day. He licked his lips, before shaking his head and staring ahead at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall opposite him. His hair was a state, his beard in need of another trim alongside his hair and he looked desperate for sleep, dark circles under his eyes. They'd find Ana, she was a capable agent, a superb captain. She would have hidden away somewhere, probably waiting for the enemy to lose interest before calling for help. Jesse kicked off his boots, shuffling backwards and lying backwards on his bed, staring up the ceiling with his right arm casually behind his head. She would be fine. He smiled, heavy lids closing before sleep washed over him. Absolutely fine.

O O O O

A week passed and the Blackwatch search team returned with bad news. They had found Ana's rifle with the broken scope and smashed comms equipment in a pool of blood. Jesse had been heading for breakfast, whistling melodically only stopping when he spotted the conversation between the Blackwatch team and the two strike commanders in the briefing room. The blue beret Ana always wore was handed to Jack, the edges stained with blood and heads bowed in realisation. Captain Ana Amari was gone. Jack and glanced towards the door, spotting Jesse stood just outside in disbelief. He took a step towards the door, closing slowly so as to grant privacy to the search team and the commanders. Jesse feeling his skin prickle and his stomach churn, a wave of heat washing over him. Was he angry? Upset? He felt tears forming and angrily blinked his eyes, clearing his throat to fight the lump that was forming before turning and walking the other way. Suddenly breakfast wasn't on his mind anymore. He walked at a brisk pace, hat falling forwards to shadow his eyes, gaze fixed on the ground in front of him, his mind not caring where he was going nor giving a dam as to who he walked into. He felt a hand or two try and stop him, shouldering his way out of it without so much as a word and only snapped back to his senses when he found himself stood outside on the cliff edge, staring out at the ocean, the wind tugging at his body and specks of ocean spray settling as a gentle mist on his features.

Ana was gone. Left behind, injured and most likely killed. She had believed in him, trained him and given him hope. He looked to what remained of his left arm, anger and disgust in his eyes. What he would have given to trade places, to have been there to help her. His breathing was heavy, eyes closing and allowing a lone tear to escape, rolling down his grizzled cheek as he ground his teeth together. Losing someone wasn't new to him, but Ana had been the one to give him a chance all those years back. She had been the one to hand him his firearm against Jacks knowledge, trusted him to make the right choice. The moment she had folded his fingers around his peacekeeper the captain had earned Jesse's respect. She had made him feel included, dragged the cowboy into her family by his neckerchief and drove a sense of home into him. He sank to his knees, driving his fist angrily into the ground with a stifled yell of anger and pain, hanging his head and letting an angry sob escape him. He decided then and there, that whomever had been the one to take Ana from them he would hunt them down and kill them himself. No matter the cost and no matter how long it took him, he would dispense justice.

O O O O

Preparations for Ana's funeral took place immediately. As a Captain, she would be given a proper send off, granted a special spot in one of the Base cemeteries and even granted a special mural. The watch point had a sombre feel to it, especially with the funerals of the other 5 agents who were killed in action occurring between that time. Agents barely spoke to each other, and when they did conversations were brief and meaningless. Everyone was dwelling on the deaths, occasionally mumbling about the new Talon sniper who had been responsible, some guy who could reposition like the wind and barely missed. Jesse had to prevent himself lashing out one evening when a Blackwatch agent jokingly mentioned that the sniper could give him a run for his money.

 **"Fancy your chances Deadeye? I reckon you could take him on easy"** How infuriating, Jesse had stood up abruptly and left the room without a word, taking out his frustration on the wall of his chamber which earned him a nice set of bruised knuckles and a dent in the wall. Still it was better than punching another human being.

O O O O

Jesse couldn't find a method of coping that agreed with him. He threw himself into training with no avail, he tried helping around the base but nobody seemed to need or want the help of a one-armed cowboy whose expression seemed so bitter he could probably sour milk with a single glance. He even tried meditation, barely lasting a few seconds before losing focus and angrily tossing his cigarette lighter across the room as it was the nearest thing to him at the time. He was out of viable options and so McCree did what he did best. He drank. The scotch bottle in his room was the first to go, the strong amber liquid numbing his senses, emotions and drawing him into a heavy sleep where he couldn't dream about the past and didn't have to worry about the future. His room quickly fell back into disarray, empty cigarillo packets, dirty laundry and a steadily growing pile of liquor bottles stacking up in the corner. He barely left his quarters, only to eat and maybe check the mail. It was at Ana's memorial that people first started to take notice of the gunslingers downward spiral.

O O O O

Having dragged himself out of bed that morning, he showered and fumbled his way into his white shirt and blue suit. The black tie was left untied, loose around his neck and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. The shirt was creased, the crease in his trousers crooked and adding a rough edge to what should have been a very smart piece of attire. He abandoned shaving, his facial hair becoming more rugged and unruly, slowly merging into his lengthening hair. Dragging a comb through his mess of hair, he'd snatched his had from the side, slapping it on his head before grabbing a silver hip flask from his sock drawer and taking a long swig from it, wincing as it burned the back of his throat before he tucked the flask into his suit pocket and stepped out into the hall, promptly having a lit cigarillo between his lips as he joined the rest of the attendees.

Someone had scolded him for wearing his hat at the service. As to who it was Jesse couldn't have given less of a dam if he tried. They had travelled to the Swiss Headquarters for the service and were stood around the memorial stone that had been crafted specially. The grey granite stone had been lovingly created in house, incorporating the Overwatch logo with Ana's signature mark of Horus blooming from the centre. The words inscribed on the stone were a mixture of English and Arabic, the letters flowing together in a beautiful cursive pattern. Every word that was spoken at the service was garbled to Jesse as he stared down at the stone. It was as though he were watching everything from behind thick glass, warbled words nothing but alien to him. The sun that had graced the start of the service was rapidly fading, clouds ushering in a darkness and a cold wind which whipped through the surface and tugged a few tears away from his comrades. Still he stared, unaware of the world around him, his grizzled features, pale complexion and heavily bloodshot eyes lined with dark circles a result of sleep deprivation mixed with alcohol consumption. Fortunately the shadow his hat cast across his features tactfully hid his face from view as he stood in silence, his right hand buried deep in his pocket and the sleeve of his left arm flapping gently in the breeze.

O O O O

The suffocating sensation of bodies around him slowly began to ease off as his fellow agents began to disperse around him. Some heading inside to share a drink and discuss fonder times, others taking the opportunity to visit other graves. Jesse stood rigid, failing to move even as the dark clouds that loomed overhead rumbled before the heavens opened, allowing cold rain to fall, soaking the Blackwatch Agent almost immediately.

 **"Jesse, you're still out here?"** a gentle female voice spoke up, the sound of feet squelching in the grass still not drawing him from his stupor. A hand placed itself on his shoulder, squeezing gently and jolting him from his daze, the agent blinking a few times before glancing round to meet the gaze of the woman beside him.

Her young features were stained with tears, jet black hair framing her face and gold beads woven delicately into the ends. Her olive skin, darkened further by the sun by her time in Egypt and the Wadjet mark under her eye was not easily mistakable. Fareeha Amari.

She held an umbrella close to her, taking a moment to adjust the hem of the black dress she was wearing before forcing a small smile. **"You know it's raining, right?"** she prompted, noting how the cowboys hat had begun to droop as the rain started weighing it down. Water was dripping off the edge, his suit a darker blue and clinging to his frame. Even so McCree didn't seem to mind it, that being said the chill that he would feel later would certainly bother him if he didn't find a way to dry off soon.

Jesse glanced up, the rain splashing against his face **"Huh, fancy that."** he mused, his voice rough before he ran a hand over his face unsure what to say to the woman who had lost her mother and not even been given the opportunity for a proper burial. Instead he turned his gaze back to the stone, licking his lips and craving the hipflask tucked safely in his suit pocket. **"I'm sorry about what happened"** he murmured, his hand going back to his trouser pocket as the rain continued to batter the pair of them **"I should have been on that mission with her, I shoulda' fought harder to be put on it. Maybe I could have done somethin' to help"** he muttered.

Fareeha maintained a firm grip on the umbrella, despite the wind picking up briefly trying to tug it from her hands. She watched Jesse look to the stone, his apology catching her off guard. **"You don't have to apologise Jesse"** she said gently, looking to the stone also and exhaling slowly " **My mother died doing what she loved most in the world. I take comfort from that"** she said quietly, closing her eyes in quiet reflection.

Jesse nodded slowly **"Yer' ma' was one of the best. Always lookin' out fer us"** he said looking to her and spotting the silent tears escaping the young woman's eyes. His heart felt like it was being crushed in a voice, the cowboy sighing and reaching for the flask in his jacket before pausing with a gentle frown. Instead he placed his right arm around the young Amari, tugging her closer to him in a reassuring yet somewhat lopsided and damp hug. **"She'd be proud of ya' y'know"** he slurred, feeling a dull headache forming behind his eyes.

Fareeha had tensed at the action, tugged close to the gunslinger and feeling the dampness of his suit soaking into her, the scent of cigarillos and alcohol invading her senses. She didn't believe his words; her mother had always been dead set again her joining Overwatch. **"I believe we saw her very differently Jesse"** she said before the stench of alcohol made her sneer **"Have you been drinking?"** she asked, noting how Jesse glanced away from her accusing gaze.

 **"M'ybe a little"** he muttered, before Fareeha sighed and relaxed, resting her head on his shoulder, the rain finally letting up and allowing her to collapse down her umbrella.

 **"Maybe a lot"** she corrected him, resting her eyes. **"I heard about what happened. In Kings Row."** She felt him tense at the words, pausing for a moment before continuing **"Mom told me about it. She worried about you, wanted so badly to see you get back on the horse after the accident"** she noticed him flinch, his gaze shifting away briefly **"I wanted to come and see you but-"** she trailed off quietly unsure how to explain that no time felt right to see how he was doing with a missing arm **"Are- are you doing alright?"** she asked.

Jesse shook his head **"S'alright, ya don't need t'be lookin' out fer me"** he said looking towards the sky as her question grabbed his attention. He nodded **"I'm alright, yer ma' was actually getting' me back on track. Givin' me a few pointers and teachin' me to shoot as a righty"** he said with a fond smile, wiggling the fingers on his right hand still keeping his arm around her. **"Don't ask me to pen any letters though"** he added.

Fareeha smiled gently **"As if your handwriting wasn't bad enough before"** she teased before shivering as the cold began to nip at her skin. **"We really should head back inside, it's freezing out here"** she suggested, gently pulling away from him and taking a few steps towards the main building. **"Coming?"** she asked with a soft smile.

Jesse let a gentle frown etch on his brow at the suggestion to head inside. He could feel the chill of his damp suit drawing the warmth from his bones and causing a shiver to run up his spine. He nodded **"Yeah, it's colder than a witch's tit out here…"** the sudden snort that escaped Fareehas lips as she bit on a laugh and bit hard on her bottom lip to silence herself drew a smile to his tired features. Even now his southern idioms could make her laugh and in spite of everything he was glad he could do something to lift her spirits if only for a moment. He recalled how as a young girl she would to giggle uncontrollably at certain phrases before begging him to teach her more obscure ones that she could use to confuse the other agents.

 **"You go on ahead, Just' guna have a quick smoke and I'll be right with ya'"** he plucked his lighter into view, flashing her a false smile as she began to walk away. Immediately he turned his back on her, plucking the hip flask from his jacket and quickly unscrewing the cap. About to take a swig he froze as Fareeha placed a hand on his shoulder, the young Amari having read him like a book and doubling back. He expected a stern lecture, but instead found himself almost entranced by the words that escaped her.

 **"My mother always believed in you Jesse. Even when I was a little girl she spoke so fondly of you, how far you'd come and what you achieved."** she squeezed his shoulder gently **"She would often say that pain is an inevitable part of life, but if you learn from it makes you stronger"** she said looking at the hip flask in his hand, concern in her eyes before she released her grip. **"I'll see you inside?"** she said hopefully, before leaving the cowboy alone.

Jesse frowned at the hip flask in his hand, able to hear the Captains voice in his head.

**"Learn from the pain"**

He raised the flask, a final toast for the fallen captain. **"I hear ya Captain"** he said with a smile, taking a final sip before tucking the flask back into his jacket, turning and heading inside.


	16. Compensation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the length of this chapter - inspiration dried up a little towards the end but I didn't want to leave you all hanging so enjoy! I reckon some of you will appreciate the break considering the monolithic lengths of my recent chapters!
> 
> Thank you for reading so far, your support means so much to me!

* * *

 

The aftermath of the memorial lasted a long time, the grey cloud still hanging over the Overwatch and Blackwatch agents and the occasional storm drawing out more and more arguments. To Jesse it was like watching everything through a one-sided mirror, the cowboy unable to do much to help settle things. Naturally he had intervened a few times when tempers frayed between Blackwatch and Overwatch agents but things never worked in his favour and he didn't have the strength to back his words physically. A couple of his attempts to help had drawn him into the fray, feeling the anger radiating between the two groups. Not all encounters had ended well for him.

 **"You want to try that again McCree?"**  the face of a fellow Blackwatch agent he had served with for a few years was inches from his own, their lips curled into a cruel smile, their hand pressed firmly against his shoulder, keeping his back planted against the wall. He had been trying to stop a fight breaking out over Training room allocations that day and things had taken a wrong turn very quickly.

O O O O

With Reyes and Morrison barely about to be of use, and other more senior agents out on active duty, the only reason McCree had stepped in was because their bickering was disrupting Angela who was attempting to catch up on some sleep in her quarters down the hallway. He had found her leaning against her door frame, a tired expression on her face and her blonde hair a state, the sound of arguing echoing down the hallway almost reverberating off the walls. Jesse had been passing by, spotting the doctor and pausing to make light conversation.

 **"Sounds like they're stranglin' cats in there"**  he said, scratching the back of his neck briefly.

Angela nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose with a tired sigh  **"They have been arguing for the past 10 minutes. I was working all night and just wanted a few hours' sleep. Doesn't seem like it will be possible with that noise though"**

Jesse sympathised, scratching his jaw thoughtfully  **"Tried some relaxin' music? Drown 'em out?"**  his suggestion was met with a shake of her head, Angela shifting to lean her head against the door frame, eyes resting for a moment. She was dead on her feet, utterly exhausted and after everything she did around here the doctor deserved a few hours of undisturbed sleep.

 **"Want me t'go have a word?"**  he suggested with a gentle smile.

 **"Would you?"**  Angela let relief wash over her face as the cowboy nodded  **"Thank you, Jesse"**  she said, placing a hand on his arm.

 **"Ain't nuthin to thank me for darlin'"**  he said tipping his hat and heading down the hallway towards the training room, his spurs jingling gently with each weighted step.

He pushed open the doors to the training room, spotting the two agents at a Mexican standoff. Overwatch Agent Filkes was stood with his hands balled into fists by his side, his body shaking with anger while Agent Gowen of Blackwatch had his hand hovering by their weapon, the pair spitting words and insults at each other.

**"Training rooms are reserved for Active agents. Or did you forget Blackwatch are suspended?"**

**"Fuck you bluebird, I had this place booked weeks ago so I suggest you leave before I make you"**

**"Make me?! Hah that's rich, I would love to see you try!"**  the two looked about ready to butt heads, taking a threatening step towards each other.

 **"Howdy Fellas, what seems to be the problem?"**  Jesse interrupted before blows could be traded, his southern drawl attracting the attention of both males. If looks could kill Jesse imagined he would have been obliterated in seconds, nothing more than a pile of ash. Undeterred he strolled forwards, adjusting his hat and continuing to speak  **"Y'all are making a heck of a noise in here, waddya' say we take it down a notch. Try and settle this like gentlemen?"**

 **"Stay out of this McCree"**  Gowan hissed the words at him  **"This is between me and Filkes"**  A finger was jabbed towards the Overwatch Agent angrily.

Jesse shook his head  **"No dice. Y'all are making a heap o' noise and there are good folks tryin' t'sleep nearby that don't deserve to hear yer bickerin'. So, I suggest y'all hush up and try to settle this proper like"**  he plucked a cigarillo from his pocket, placing it between his teeth and fumbling to light it.

**"I'll say it again McCree. This doesn't concern you so I suggest you leave before I make you"**

**"Yeah, get lost Lefty"**

Appeared the men could agree on a mutual hatred for the interfering cowboy. At least that was something. Jesse raise an eyebrow at the 'lefty' comment  **"Aw c'mon now, hurtin' a man's feelin's like that? That's jus' mean"**  he drew a breath on his cigarillo, putting his lighter back in his pocket.  **"Come on Gowan, why don't we talk about this outside?"**  his hand reached for the agents arm and was quickly smacked away. His back slammed hard against the wall, the cigarillo knocked from his lips by the force and rolling across the floor. Clearly opting to try and relate to the Blackwatch agent first was a mistake, he should have approached Filkes instead.

 **"Want to try that again McCree?"** Jesse narrowed his eyes angrily at Gowan before smirking and headbutting the man, watching the Agent reel away in pain with a loud curse.

Rubbing his own forehead, Jesse adjusted his hat with a wince **"Didn't try the first-time sunshine"**  he said watching the Agent recover and glare at him.  **"I don't want'te fight ye Gowan"**  he said, gently stepping away.

 **"Then it makes this much easier for me."**  He said cracking his knuckles and stepping forwards, jet black hair slicked back from his face and a dark look etched on his pale features.

Jesse rolled his eyes, seeing Filkes shift to intervene and raising his hand to stop him.  **"S'alright Filkes, jus' keep yer distance"**  he said, adjusting his hat again as Gowan raised his fists.

 **"Try to keep still, it'll hurt less"**  he threw the first punch, surprised when Jesse blocked it with his right arm, the cowboy smirking at him beneath his hat.

 **"Didn't expect me to jus' stand here and take a beatin' didya?"**  he said before shouldering the man backwards  **"Y'all wanna fight, then give it yer best shot darlin'"**  he frowned at the rage in his colleague eyes and got to work blocking the blows aimed at him, striking back once or twice himself. The training with Reyes and the fitness training was coming into use, the gunslinger managing to hold his own fairly well despite missing his arm. Driving his knee up into Gowan's stomach he watched the man double over with a wheeze and eased off, catching his own breath before speaking.

 **"There's no need fer this fightin' partner"**  he panted, stepping over and placing his hand on the man's back  **"We're s'posed to be on the same side"**  he said, trying to look the man in the eyes. Gowan staying doubled over with a wince, muttered words escaping the man that were undecipherable to the cowboy.

 **"Come again?"** Jesse asked

 **"Fine…fine. You're right, I'm done"**  he wheezed, as Jesse helped him straighten up, patting the man on the back and watching him shuffle towards the door.

Jesse looked to the Filkes, his hand in his pocket  **"Yer just as bad as him y'know"**  he said, shaking his head and fishing out another cigarillo to replace the one that had been scuffed around the floor during the fight. The Overwatch agent bowed his head shamefully, muttering in agreement before turning to fetch what he needed for training.

 **"Hey, McCree!"**  Gowen's voice pierced the silence, Jesse turning around. The world suddenly went dark as a fist collided hard with his face.

He really needed to learn to never turn his back on folks.

O O O O

**"Verdammt Jesse! What happened?"**

[Verdammt = Dammit]

Jesse was stood outside that evening, leaning heavily on the railing and smoking up a storm. The cloud of smoke from his cigarillo spiralled around his head before being carried off by the wind, a frown set on his features. Angela had approached him from the side, quickly catching sight of the black eye he was now sporting, the skin tender and swollen. Plucking the cigarillo from his lips, the cowboy set about running his tongue over his teeth briefly before responding  **"Nothin' outta the ordinary Doc"**  he murmured tapping the build-up of ash from the end of his cigarillo. Gowan had turned back and caught him unawares, delivering a hefty blow to his face and knocking him out for a few seconds. Rest assured the cowboy had gotten his own back once he was back on his feet and his head had stopped spinning.

Angela frowned, taking position beside him and reaching her hands towards his face, gentle fingers brushing his skin before she gently turned his head by his cheek so she could see the full extent of the bruising. His eye was half closed from the swelling, and no doubt the bruising would be a beautiful specimen once the colours had full developed. He had a raw cut on his other cheek too, the skin an angry red **.** A look of disapproval crossed the medics face as she eyed the wounds up **.**

 **"Shoulda' seen the other guy"**  Jesse said with a grin, pulling his face away from her touch and looking forwards again, drawing another breath on the cigarillo.

 **"I did see the other guy. You broke his nose"**  Angela said simply, resting her hands on her hips and shifting her weight to her right side, an eyebrow raising at him asking silently for an explanation.

 **"Oh"**  Jesse looked surprised before he chuckled to himself  **"Not bad for a fella with one arm though, eh doc?"**  he said with another grin, biting on his smile when he saw her serious expression.  **"Sorry, probably shouldn't laugh huh?"**  he said, clearing his throat awkwardly.  **"You manage to get some shut eye at least?"**  he asked, glad when Angela nodded gently.

 **"I did, thank you"**  she said, leaning against the railing, her arms folding and her head tilting as she glanced to him  **"I never asked you to use violence"**

 **"Hey, s'not like I went lookin' fer a fight. Those two were fixin' to kick the shit outta each other no matter what was said."** He shrugged briefly " **I jus' got in the way."**  Brown hues looked out towards the lighthouse in the distance the cowboy drawing another breath on his cigarillo, the end illuminating before he exhaled the smoke through his nose  **"Way I see it, it stopped greater of two evils."**

 **"But must violence always be the solution?"**  she asked softly, tucking a few lose strands of blonde hair behind her ear.

 **"You try tellin' that to Gowan ."**  He said before sighing at her disappointed expression **"Look Doc, I know ya don't like the way we Blackwatch boys do things, but we ain't exactly squeaky clean. We're a little rough aroun' the edges, always 'ave been, but we get the job done"**  he placed a hand on her shoulder, the cigarillo balanced between his teeth  **"Truth be told, we ain't one fer bickerin amongst ourselves unless we've 'ad a few too many y'know? Just lately everyone seems to be-"**

 **"-On edge?"**  Angela spoke up gently, attempting to fill in the blanks with her own observation

 **"I was guna say loosin' their shit, but that works too"**  they both fell silent, Jesse leaning on the railing again and chewing on the end of his cigarillo thoughtfully.

Angela clasped her hands together gently, looking thoughtful before finally breaking the silence.  **"Jesse, I would like you to come and see me in the morning"**  her tone left little leeway as to the time or even turning down the appointment. The gunslinger turned his gaze to her, plucking his cigarillo from his lips and looking at it.

**"Look Doc, if yer guna give me another stack of smokin' patches yer wastin' your time. I really-"**

**"-no, not this time. Just, come and see me in my office tomorrow morning. It's important"** she said sternly, Jesse flicking his cigarillo to the floor and crushing it beneath his boot, a little sceptical of the request.

 **"Er, sure thing"**  he said scratching the back of his neck.

 **"Ausgezeichnet!"**  she said with a smile "Pop by around 9am" she said before stepping past him and heading back inside, Jesse staring after her with a baffled expression etched on his brow as he contemplated why she needed to see him.

_[Ausgezeichnet = Excellent]_

O O O O

McCree overslept the following morning. Rolling over his eyes briefly caught a glimpse of the time flashing at him from his bedside table, adrenaline coursing through his body immediately.

8:54am

Throwing himself out of bed, his feet tripped over each other sending him barrelling into the bathroom, the gunslinger just about catching his balance before quickly slapping his hand over the shower button to turn it on. Wrestling out of his clothes he shot another glance at the time, cussing before tossing his t-shirt in the general direction of the laundry basket.

He burst into Angela's office 10 minutes late, his hand roughly shoving his shirt into the waist of his trousers and his teeth clamped down on his hat.  **"Shit Angie, sorry I'm late I over slept an-"** he muttered through the fabric before lifting his gaze, brown hues widening at the small gathering before him, the gunslinger slowly plucking his hat from his mouth and pausing.

Angela was sat at her desk, but behind her and sat nearby were a number of Overwatch agents; Lena was sat to her right fidgeting in her seat and eagerly elbowing Winston who was awkwardly adjusting his glasses. On her left stood Commander Jack Morrison and leaning up against the wall with his arms folded none other than Commander Gabriel Reyes.

 **"There's less of you to get ready now and still you arrive late?"**  Reyes said raising an eyebrow at the agent before shaking his head  **"Stop gawping at us and make yourself presentable"**  he snapped, McCree standing to attention and slapping his hat on his head, taking a few steps closer and nervously scratching the back of his neck with a small laugh.

 **"What's this, some sorta in'ervention?"** he asked with a grin, watching as Angela picked up a large box from the floor and set it on her desk, blue eyes shining at him and a gentle smile on her features.

 **"Not at all Jesse-"**  she began to speak before the door was thrown open with a bang, Torbjörn walking in with a cup of coffee in his hand.

 **"-Have you given it to him yet? Some of us have work to do don't ya know?"** he snapped, shuffling past McCree without so much as a glance, the gunslinger looking back to Angela.

 **"Given me what?"** he enquired, noting the annoyed looks and rolling of eyes the other agents gave the Swedish Dwarf.

 **"No…we haven't given it to him yet Torbjörn. We were leading up to it…"**  Angela exhaled in annoyance before smiling at McCree and sliding the box forward as a gesture for him to open it.

Jesse stood still, looking down at the long wooden box almost cautiously. Gently placing his hand on the smooth surface, he took a slow breath, lifting his gaze to question what it could be and why when Reyes interjected.

**"Goddamit Kid open the damn box before we all die of old age"**

Opening the lid Jesse stared down at the robotic limb that rested inside the box, the inside a soft velvet material to prevent scratches to the metal. The metal looked strong, each piece crafted with care and intricately woven to meet with the various wires and technology required to operate it. The fingers were the perfect width, each joint perfectly spaced to prevent stiffness and allow easy pickup of objects. What drew a smile to his lips was the skull motif that had been affixed to the outer edge, a small throw back to his deadlock tattoo, something he held close despite it's negative past. His right hand gently grasped the robotic limb, pulling it from the box, his eyes watching the fingers gently fall open as he rotated it, examining every detail in silence before he swallowed the lump forming in his throat and looked to the eager expressions of those around the room.

 **"This…this is fer me?"**  he asked, his lips curling into a smile as his question was met with unanimous nods from around the room  **"But, I thought y'all couldn't get the fundin' fer one?"** he asked, glancing towards the two commanders.

 **"We used Blackwatch and Overwatch assets to make this for you in house. No funding required, just materials and skills we had to hand"**  Jack explained before looking towards Winston  **"You've Winston to thank for pushing the idea"**

 **"Actually, I only helped, it was everyone's involvement and skills who made it possible. Doctor Ziegler assisted with the biological aspects, Torbjörn and Myself with the robotics and Lena and Reyes with the more, aesthetic pieces."**  Winston adjusted his glasses again after speaking, looking to each agent in turn as he explained.

 **"So! Come on! Do you like it?!"**  Lena practically jumped from her seat as she questioned the cowboy.

Jesse swallowed again and nodded, lifting his gaze from the limb again  **"It…"**  he faltered on words  **"It's perfect. Hell, I really don't know what to say aside from thank ye'"**

 **"Fucking hell. Never thought I'd see the day. Jesse McCree utterly speechless"** Reyes chuckled and pushed his back off the wall  **"You earned it kid, now take good care of it and we'll get you back on active duty in no time"**  he promised, slapping him hard on the shoulder and squeezing briefly to reassure him before taking his position back against the wall.

Jesse nodded eagerly in response  **"O'course. Seriously though, thank y'all for doin' this…."**  He set the limb down in the box again and chuckled, taking a moment to reflect and compose himself  **"Shit, ya'll tryin' to make a grown ass man cry?"**  he flashed a smile at the group before him, gratitude radiating from him in waves.

 **"It's the least we could do luv"** Lena piped up  **"Like Reyes said, you've more than earned it. We all worked really hard to put this together, we're just glad you like it"**  she flicked her hair from her eyes as murmurs of agreement echoed through the group.

 **"Right, I think it's time we all got back to work. Angela, I'll leave you to explain what happens next. Come on you lot"**  Jack spoke up, gesturing with his head to the door. Each agent slowly began to file out of the room. Torbjörn shuffled out quickly with a grumble about wasting his morning, Winston followed with an excitable Lena bouncing energetically at his side and Jack passed him, giving the Blackwatch agent a firm nod of approval.

Reyes playfully driving his fist into the top of McCree's arm jolted the cowboys gaze away from the door, brown orbs meeting the dark hues of his strike commander.  **"So, who'd you piss off this time?"**  he asked gruffly noting the confusion on Jesse's face and gesturing to the large black eye he was sporting  **"And don't feed me some bullshit about it being an accident"**  he folded his arms, shifting his weight to his left foot and awaiting an explanation.

Jesse shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck  **"Jus' a misunderstandin' regardin' trainin' rooms boss. S'alright though, I had it under control"**  he shrugged a shoulder, noting the smirk that crossed the Blackwatch commander's features.

 **"Yeah, I heard Gowan bitching about his busted nose in the changing rooms last night. Good job"**  he said before glancing over his shoulder at Angela and holding his hands up as he noticed her impatient expression  **"I'm leaving, he's all yours"**  he made for the door, glancing back at McCree  **"Hey Kid, come see me when you're done here"**  he said before leaving Angela and McCree alone.

Gently gesturing to the seat in front of her desk, Angela watched fondly as Jesse took the offer and slumped into the seat with a slow exhale and a tired yet happy grin on his grizzled features.

 **"Now then, let's talk about the medical procedure required to attach this shall we?"**  she said placing a hand on the box and watching Jesse sit up to pay full attention to her every word.

 **"I'm all ears doc"**  he said, plucking his hat from his head and setting it in his lap, listening as Angela began to explain exactly what would need to be done, the door to the office closing with a gentle click and sealing their words.


	17. Questionable Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this part has taken so long, getting into the right mindset for this has proven difficult and then of course Blizzard go and drop a Blackwatch Healer on us?! Well hold onto your hats and spurs folks because I couldn't pass that opportunity up. Hopefully I can do her justice!
> 
> Thank you once again for sticking with me while I SLOWLY churn these parts out and should you fancy keeping in contact with me you can now find me on Tumblr! (That's where all the cool kids hang out!)
> 
> https://superjedders.tumblr.com/
> 
> Jedders Out!

 

**"** **Do you think you will go back to using your left hand for shooting again?"**

The soft synthetic voice of the cyborg caused McCree to gently lift his hat off his face, glancing across the roof they had settled on for the evening. He contemplated the question for a moment, chewing on his lip before slowly sitting up. **"I don't know, I guess I'd like te' but doc says my arm'll be outta action after surgery for a while. Gotta' let the swellin' go down and then there's learnin' how te' use it"** he drew his legs up, resting his right arm across his knees and shrugged **"Guess we'll see eh?"** he flashed a smile at Genji, the cyborg nodding gently.

 **"** **I am happy for you McCree. Although..."** he leaned back **"you realise Reyes will stop going easy on you once you have both arms?"** he shot the cowboy a smirk.

**"** **Easy on me? Don't know where you've been but Reyes has been anythin' but easy on me since the incident"**

Genji chuckled to himself, shaking his head **"You keep telling yourself that cowboy"** he began to get to his feet, stretching his arms out in front of him.

 **"** **Now hold up a sec, you name one-time Reyes has gone easy on me?"** Jesse got to his feet also, facing his comrade with a stern glare, his eyebrow raising as Genji folded his arms gently.

 **"** **You're still here are you not?"** Genji met the brown hues of the cowboy with his own steely gaze.

**"** **An' what's that s'pose to mean?"**

**"** **Reyes dismissed Wyono and Ortega on the spot for their injuries. Yet you, are still here. I would hardly call that a coincidence, would you?"**

Jesse frowned at the idea before straightening up **"M'bbe he- I mean when he recruited me it was te'-"**

**"** **-to keep you from jail. However, enough time has passed for that to become irrelevant. Regardless of that, Reyes has always been ruthless when it comes to removing weak links from Blackwatch. Weakness is a risk and the commander does not like to take risks. You are an exception McCree"**

Jesse scratched the back of his head, stumped by the ninja's counter argument before shaking his head **"Nah, gotta' be s'min else...yer just makin' this stuff up"** he grinned at the cyborg **"'sides, he still kicks my ass as hard in trainin' sessions. If he had a soft spot fer me he wouldn't 'ave broken my nose that one time"**

Genji chuckled and shook his head **"Believe what you will. It is getting late and I believe Angela instructed you to have a full night's rest ahead of tomorrow's surgery, correct?"** both men turned their attention to the full moon, its bright light gleaming down on them, the base eerily silent as agents slept the night away.

 **"** **Yer right. Tomorrow's a big day"** Jesse adjusted his hat and shot the cyborg a sideward glance **"I'm expectin' chocolates from ye' when I wake up partner. I hope ye know that"**

 **"** **I guess I will have to return the whiskey I bought then"** the cyborg turned to leave.

**"** **Now hold on, I never said-"**

The cyborg laughed loudly **"-Goodnight McCree"** A quick salute was given, the cyborg leaping down from the building and disappearing into the night, the cowboy chuckling to himself and looking back to the horizon with a gentle smile on his rugged features.

**O O O O**

**"** **Alright, I have run all the necessary pre-checks and everything has been prepared in surgery"** Angela was reading through the cowboys notes again as she spoke, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, a look of determination etched on her features as she thoughtfully tapped her pen against her lip **"Do you have any questions Jesse?"** she asked, lifting her sapphire blue hues from the paper to look at the gunslinger.

Jesse was sat up in bed, his dishevelled hair, allowed to roam free without his hat, was splayed out in all directions, the white of his gown an unusual contrast to the gentle sun kissed glow of his skin. Scratching at his jaw the cowboy shook his head **"No questions from me doc, you've explained it plenty o'times"** he smiled at her, watching her approach his IV lines and rummage around for the sedative she needed.

 **"** **Once I have administered the anaesthetic just count backwards from 10 for me"** she set about filling the needle with the fluid, ensuring the measurement was exact before she flicked the end of the needle and turned her gaze back to him, smiling at the keen glint in his eyes. **"You're excited?"** she remarked.

 **"** **O'course, not every day a fella gets a new arm. Let alone a badass one like that"** he said thumbing towards the box on the side " **I said it before, im'a say it again, I'm real grateful to ye' fer doin' this doc."** He held out his right arm for her when gestured, Angela tapping gently to raise some veins to the surface.

 **"** **You don't need to thank me Jesse, I am just doing my job"** she smiled before inserting the needle into the vein on the back of his hand and gently injecting the anaesthetic **"Ok, start counting for me"** the needle was set on the side, arms folding gently as she watched and waited.

Jesse smirked at the doctor, nodding at her words and beginning to count backwards in his head from 10.

_10...9...8..._

The world around his began to grow foggy, his movements becoming sluggish, brown hues rolling to look at the clock before rolling back to look at Angela.

_7...6...5_

The world began to grow dark, the cowboy keeping Angela in sight as the dark tendrils began to swarm towards the centre, engulfing her form and dragging the cowboy into the darkness.

**O O O O**

**"** **There were a few complications with the procedure"**

**"** **Complications?"**

**"** **Yes, the connection of the prosthesis could not be mapped exactly as we had planned. A little bit of improvisation though resolved the matter"**

**"** **So, everything is fine?"**

**"** **Indeed. I believe Jesse will make a full recovery"**

The words faded in and out of Jesses mind as he struggled to regain consciousness, his lids felt heavy, struggling to allow him to see the world around him. His body felt like it was being pulled downwards into the bed and as unconsciousness washed over him again he could have sworn he felt someone take his hand. A large, calloused hand.

When he awoke again later the cowboy found himself wincing as the bright light of his hospital room reflected off the sterile walls and assaulted his eyeballs driving the headache that resided deeper into his skull. A pained groan escaped him, the noise scratching his throat and alerting him to just how dry his mouth was, the gunslinger awkwardly smacking his lips together desperate to form some moisture and remove the dry almost furry sensation from his tongue.

**"** **Ah Jesse, you're awake"**

Still squinting the cowboy grunted as Angela leaned closer, her figure blurring into focus before a bright light was shone into his brown hues causing him to recoil with a noise of protest.

 **"** **Sorry, I just need to check you are responding properly"** Angela clicked off the torch and crossed the room, gently dimming the lights slightly so the cowboy could open his hues fully. **"I can imagine you're feeling pretty rough right now"** her words were spoken gently, arms folding across her chest.

 **"** **Worse hangover I've ever had"** Jesse forced the words past his lips, every syllable catching on the roof of his mouth as his dry tongue scratched against the inside of his mouth **"Can I get a drink?"** he asked, exhaling feebly as Angela nodded and set about pouring him a glass of water, popping a straw in and holding the glass close so that the plastic tube poked against his cracked lips.

He sought the straw hungrily, sucking desperately at the cold water and downing the whole glass with ease. Exhaling in relief as the dryness faded he smirked at the medic and murmured a thank you before looking down to his left arm, surprised to see he was bandaged up to his shoulder instead of just past his elbow as originally planned, his brow furrowing curiously before he tried to move his arm, grunting as nothing happened. The limb was a complete dead weight, useless for now.

 **"** **We encountered some complications during surgery. Some of the nerves we had intended to connect the prosthetic to were too badly damaged or too weak to be stable enough to support the connection so we had to travel further up your arm to locate healthier nerves instead. It was that, or we wire into your spinal cord and I did not feel comfortable with that option"** she took a moment to tuck some loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear before continuing **"For now I have numbed the area and put you on the strongest pain medication Overwatch has available, which probably explains the headache. Once the swelling goes down we can see about testing some of your motor functions and from there plan accordingly"** she noticed the look of unease cross the cowboys face and approached his bed, perching on the edge and placing her hand on his right one. **"Everything went fine Jesse, you have nothing to worry about now except resting and your rehabilitation"**

Jesse nodded slowly at her words, glancing down again to his left arm and licking his lips as he admired the metal limb attached to the end of his elbow. It was a bizarre experience, seeing something unnatural affixed to you and the conflict in the mind. It wasn't his arm, but he would have to learn that it was. The headache spiked behind his eyes again, drawing a wince from him before Angela stood up.

 **"** **Get some rest Jesse, it will do you a world of good"** the words were spoken with a stern undertone, the cowboy fully aware that it was an order and not a suggestion. Nodding once he allowed himself to relax back into the pillow, dark hues closing slowly and sleep washing over him easily.

**O O O O**

**"** **Hey Kid. Wake up"**

The gruff voice that woke him drew a disoriented murmur of protest from the cowboy before his visitor flicked him square between his eyes. Jesse yelped, half slapping himself in the face as he tried to nurse the area with his right hand before scowling through the gaps in his fingers at the figure beside his bed.

 **"** **Reyes? Fuck'n hell..."** Jesse winced and let his hand pull away from his head before noting the serious look on his commander's expression. Gently placing his hand against the bed, he slowly began to ease himself up, grimacing and dragging his metal limb awkwardly through the motions before he allowed his back to rest against the wall and tired hues to settle on Gabe **"Y'need s'min?"** he asked, his voice a rough mumble as he still tried to pull his consciousness together, briefly casting his gaze to the dim green clock on the side. 1am? Tired hues rolled back towards his commander, the cowboy about to reprimand the man for waking him but instead his lips formed a tight line and not a word passed them. The look in his commander's eyes unsettled him, the worry etched on the male's brow could not be hidden by his signature black beanie. Jesse blinked once, immediately on full alert **"Boss?"** he prompted, the steely gaze of his commander darting up from the metal limb to meet his own brown hues.

**"** **Everything's fine..."**

Jesse was unconvinced and raised an eyebrow **"Well that's the biggest crocka-shit I ever heard. What's goin' on?"** he moved to fold his arms across his chest to punctuate his point, only for his right arm to flop awkwardly across his chest while his robotic limb stayed unresponsive at his side . A pointless motion, the cowboy huffing in annoyance and abandoning the attempt.

Reyes looked back towards the door, almost as though he were expecting someone to bust into the room at any moment. His large hands rested on his thighs, fingers drumming rhythmically to keep the digits pre-occupied. The silence was unnerving, McCree letting his lips part to question his commander yet again, only to be cut off before a sound could escape him **"Has anyone been to visit you?"**

Jesse blinked. Rudely awoken with a slight air of panic to be asked about his visitors? **"Naw, jus' you an' Angie"** he paused for a moment **"Why?"** he added scowling when Reyes looked away and pushed himself to his feet. "Reyes?" Jesse rose his tone as much as he could, a heavy scowl on his features as he tried to sit forward a little more.

The commander froze at the door, glancing back over his shoulder slightly and drawing a slow inhale of breath before speaking **"Just- Just remember who your doctor is alright?"** there was a brief grunt of pain from the man following the sentence, the sound faint but the cowboy's keen ears caught it.

 **"** **Hey, y'alright?"** trying to peer around the man from his bed proved difficult. Jesse scowled, watching the man look down at his hand before shoving it in his pocket with a grunt to his question before the door was tugged open and the man disappeared, offering no further information about the reason for his visit.

Perplexed, Jesse shook his head and slowly eased himself down the bed, grateful to nestle back beneath the warmth of the bedsheets again. He concluded that he would get an answer from Reyes when he saw him next or at the very least try and pry information from Genji when the cyborg inevitably visited to smuggle him some whisky as promised. Despite the increasing throbbing in his arm, now that his pain meds were starting to wear off, the Blackwatch agent found himself dozing off again almost instantly, a welcomed escape into the dark recesses of his mind. On reflection though, the gunslinger could have sworn he saw a brief trail of black smoke rise from his commander but that was impossible. Right?

**O O O O**

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

The metallic clang of a pen against the metal frame of his bed drove a sharp pain through the Blackwatch agents skull the next morning, which coupled with his already disturbed sleep made for a very grumpy grumble of annoyance. His right arm slapped clumsily over his eyes before he dragged it up and pulled his hand through his unruly chestnut hair, heavy lids parting to allow the individual who'd woken him to blur into focus. What he didn't expect was the silhouette to be right in front of his face.

 **"** **Jesus H Christ!"** Jesse jumped out of his skin, eyes flying open at the sudden invasion of space and jolting away, just catching himself before he fell off the bed and staring wide eyed at the female who was smirking at him from his bedside. Ginger hair was styled back, pointed at the ends in a way that would make Genji jealous at times. Their slim face was accented by sharp features, tight lips were curled and almost contorted into a smirk as long slender fingers gently tapped together, allowing nails to click together. **"Moira?"** Jesse shook his head before scowling at the woman and scooting himself back into the centre of the bed **"The hell ya' doin' here?"** his tone was unnecessarily hostile but he had been against the doctors presence ever since Reyes even mentioned hiring the scientist all those months ago.

Fingers ceased tapping together, fingertips gently pressed together as the scientist silently contemplated her answer simply shaking her head **"I'm working"** her reply was curt and sent a chill down McCree's spine which only seemed to cast a light in her eyes when she saw the man shudder every so briefly. Her hands parted, one gesturing gently to the robotic limb and a look which strongly resembled disgust flashed across her face **"The state of you. Reyes should have allowed me to intervene sooner. Here allow me"** willow branch fingers reached for the limb only to pause when Jesse reached across to yank his unresponsive metal limb away from her grasp slightly.

 **"** **If it's all the same to ya, I'd rather let Ziegler take a look on account of she's the one to gimmie this"** Jesse kept a firm grip on the unresponsive limb, his grizzle features settling into a stern expression before he raised an eyebrow slightly when the Irish woman's calm façade allowed a small twitch of her eye to escape. A break in the mask.

 **"** **Doctor Ziegler fails to see the wonders science has built. Allow me to repair the damage to your arm my way. All I need to do is regenerate your cellular structure and that will improve your condition almost immediately without the need for this..."** she kissed at her teeth, her hand rotating a she tried to conjure a suitable word from the air **"Unsightly substitute"** her arms folded, Jesse quick to notice one of her arms was looking a rather unhealthy purple. Almost as though the circulation was being cut from it, he could almost imagine it's icy feel, like the grasp of a dead man.

_**"** _ _**Just remember who your doctor is"** _

The words of his commander rung loudly in his head, brown hues widening. Moira was the Blackwatch doctor technically but Reyes knew what McCree thought of the medic, even arguing with him on an occasion about receiving some vaccinations from the woman. Brown hues cast themselves over the metallic limb that Moira had just referred to as an unsightly substitute and rage clawed at his gut, his gaze snapping up to the woman.

 **"** **I ain't lettin' ya within spittin' distance of me"** his southern drawl emphasised the syllables of his retort **"B'sides I'm rather attached to this unsightly substitute...quite literally as a matter o'fact"** he lifted the limb with his other hand to prove a point **"I already got a doc takin' real good care of me"** the corner of his mouth curled into a smile to see Moira stiffen at the remarks,, her own brow furrowing before she lurched forward with the speed of a snake, her hands slapping down either side of him.

Jesse jolted back instinctively, banging the back of his head on the headboard before staring into the mismatched red and blue eyes of the Blackwatch medic.

 **"** **Stupidity is not a right you can afford to expend right now"** the words were hissed, Jesse half expecting a forked tongue to poke out from between her thin lips. She didn't share Angela's code, the way she looked at the Blackwatch agents as though they were guinea pigs always put him on edge and right now Jesse felt like caged lab rat. **"My role in Blackwatch is to take care of agents, enhance and improve my technological advances to serve your purpose."** A quick glance to the door to ensure they were still alone broke up the confrontation briefly **"We must all make sacrifices in the name of science and if my memory is correct you're quite the chancer. So, Agent McCree, why not drop this loyalty act and allow me to do the Job commander Reyes hired me for?"**

Jesse narrowed his gaze at the woman " **If yer tryin' to intimidate me then yer gunna have t'do better than that darlin'. You may be Blackwatch but ya ain't no doc o'mine. Angie's looked after me since Reyes dragged my sorry ass outta Deadlock, so if you don't mind im'a stick to who I trust"** he leaned forward slightly to obtain some more of his space back **"Now I suggest ya' leave me t'rest doc"**

The pair remained at a stalemate for a few seconds before Moira huffed and withdrew, arms folding across her chest and her gaze shifting to the door **"Fine, stick to your primitive solution. I will locate agents willing to accept the enhancements my science can provide"** Jesse watched as the woman near ghosted from the room, footsteps eerily silent. As the door closed he allowed a long exhale of relief to escape him, sinking back into his pillows and running his right hand through his hair.

Hiring Moira was a mistake. Unstable with somewhat questionable ethics regarding her infatuation with the need to enhance human genetics.

**O O O O**

The door to his room opened again and the flash of the white coat he saw startled him for a moment before the familiar crop of blonde hair tied back allowed him to relax with a smile, the Swiss medic glancing up with a puzzled expression etched on her young features.

**"** **Everything alright Jesse?"**

The cowboy nodded **"Couldn't be better doc"** a pain flared in his left shoulder drawing a grimace **"Then again, reck'n I could get some more'a those pain meds?"**

Angela nodded with an amused smile **"Of course Jesse, afterwards I would like to start analysing your new robotic limb to test the connections if that's alright with you?"**

**"** **Yer my doctor, ya do whatever ye need t'"**

The cowboy knew he had made the right call on Gabriel's words. There was a new question that burned in the back of his mind now however.

If Gabriel has lost trust in Moira, then why hadn't he just kicked her to the curb? Why was he acting so cryptic?

Jesse let his brows tug together in thought. Something wasn't quite right.


End file.
